Teacher's Pet
by Cobalt Violet
Summary: “Fifty says two months and I’ll have him fired.” When Professor Lupin arrives at Hogwarts, Sirius Black is determined to get him fired thanks to a bet with James. And he’ll do anything to win…(SBRL, AU)
1. Chapter One

**CB:** I know, I know, I should be working on Obsidian Rhapsody – but this plot has been haunting me for months, and it was just begging to be written. Not as long, this ficcy, and a bit more smutty. ^_^

**Warnings:** Slight **AU**, technically, if it was in the HP universe, it would be in the Marauders era, also, be advised, this is **SLASH** which means **MALE/MAKE** stuff. Also, James, Peter and Sirius are about 18.

**Pairings:** Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (And no, I _don't_ tend to write anything else in this fandom. ^_~)

**Disclaimer:** Whilst I solemnly swear I am up to no good with these characters, I'll give them back to Ms Rowling when I'm done.

**Summary:** When Professor Lupin arrives at Hogwarts, Sirius Black is determined to get him fired thanks to a bet with James. And he'll do _anything_ to win…

"I can't believe we're in our final year." James was sprawled across his bed, hands behind his head staring at the ceiling. His glasses were slightly askew and his hair was messier than usual, thanks to a particularly vigorous pillow fight five minutes earlier.

"Mm." Sirius swung his legs back and forth off the edge of his own bed, not really caring what his best friend said, but simply enjoying the unexpected peace of the moment.

Peter, who was sitting in a rumpled heap in the middle of the floor, frowned. "It's hard to believe that this time next year, we'll be off working, or at university or…something." He sighed and stared down at his plump, linked fingers. "It's a bit frightening," He admitted.

"Frightening?" James sat up abruptly, causing his glasses to slide even further down his nose. "What are you talking about? It'll be fun…"

"…Exciting!" Sirius added, leaping into the moment with the enthusiasm he demonstrated in everything.

"…An adventure!" James continued, a grin breaking out across his face.

"Something not to be missed!" Sirius continued, jumping up and striking a heroic pose in the middle of the room. "The world will await us!"

"Er…" Peter eyed his friends dubiously. "I'm not so sure…"

"Nonsense, Pete. You wait, you'll be glad that in a year's time, you took our advice and thought about the whole situation positively." James nodded with an air of finality, then, thoughtfully bent down, removed his shoe and threw it at Sirius, who was still holding his pose. "You can stop now, Sear."

The shoe hit the dark haired boy in the head, making him shriek. "JAMES! Do you mind?"

"No, not really." The bespectacled boy stuck his tongue out at his friend, who looked wounded. "I mean, I hit your head, Sear, and it's not like it wasn't a tempting target."

"It's big enough." Peter muttered.

"Whose side are you on here, Peter?" Sirius demanded, hands on hips. "I was just _brutally_ assaulted by that monster!" Pouting, he carefully reached down and picked up the runaway shoe. "I've a good mind to keep this," He added, "It'll serve you right." Laughing, he made for the door, just as James let out an enraged shriek of his own.

"Oh no you don't, Black!" Leaping to his feet, he made an unsuccessful dive after Sirius, who fled cackling down the stairs.

Peter, who had had the presence of mind to move out of the way, pelted down the stairs after them, only to round the final corner and discover the common room in uproar.

James and Sirius were having what looked to be a cross between a tug of war and a wrestling match – the shoe in the middle – and in the process they'd already knocked over two tables and a chair. Behind them, Lily, James's girlfriend, was bellowing at them to behave and – if one of the unfortunate fighters got close enough – hitting them with her extremely large and hard textbook. The rest of the Gryffindors appeared to be torn between cheering for their favourite side, or unsuccessfully trying to avoid the chaos.

Peter sighed and sat on the bottom step, safely out of harms way. Shaking his head, he was still unable to hide a small smile as James, who had just managed to wrestle his shoe back, received a large bite on his wrist as Sirius fought to regain the unlucky trainer. The messy haired boy yelped, and yanked on Sirius's long hair, which unfortunately presented a rather good target.

The James supporters cheered, even as the Sirius supporters groaned in disappointment, only to whoop with excitement as, a moment later, their champion proceeded to right himself and tackle his enemy to the floor with a rather nice kick to the shins.

"_What_ is going on here?" 

Both culprits froze and the rest of the common room fell into silence. Professor McGonagall had just climbed through the portrait hole, and her expression had frozen somewhere between disbelief and anger.

"Black! Potter! Would you care to explain?" Her voice was icy as she strode over, hauling Sirius up by the scruff of his neck. Despite her apparent frailty, she was clearly strong, and James, having gained enough time to assess the situation, scrambled to his feet without any 'aid' from his teacher.

"Well, Professor…."

"You see, James and I…" Sirius began at exactly the same time. 

The boys scowled at one another and James muttered a quiet 'twit' under his breath.

"SILENCE!" Professor McGonagall's face was set in stone, her lips pressed together so tightly that little white lines had begun to appear around them. "You've been back a grand total of half a day, you two, and already, you've just earned yourself a detention." She frowned as the two boys shuffled their feet. They were both taller than her, and both were clearly a little scared of their teacher.

"You will report to the staff room this evening at eight o'clock precisely. I will give you a suitable punishment then." She leant closer, until she was practically nose-to-nose with James. "And if I hear _one more_ complaint about you from _anyone_, I will personally see to it that you're removed from the Quidditch team.  Both of you." She added, glancing at Sirius who had turned pale.

Shooting them one last, dark glare, she stalked back out, her back rigidly straight, shutting the portrait door behind her with a final, decisive click.

There was a long silence until, finally, Lily turned to her boyfriend. "You see?" She said, her tone scolding, "This is what happens when you…"

"Oh, leave it, Lils." James said wearily, shooting a sideways glance at her, "We've just _been_ scolded, no need for a second round."

His girlfriend frowned, but held her tongue, instead, picking up the shoe from the floor and handing it back to James. "Here," She said, pulling a comb out of her pocket as the crowd of Gryffindors began to drift aimlessly away, "Hold still."

Patiently, James submitted to the grooming, until she stepped back and smiled slightly. "You hair will never be properly tidy, Potter," She commented, "But it'll do."

Taking this to mean he was forgiven, James pecked her on the cheek. "Thanks Lils."

"Sorry to interrupt this lovely domestic scene," Came an amused voice from behind James, "But Mr Black would like to remind Mr and Mrs Potter that their first lesson is about to begin." Sirius grinned, grey eyes glinting with mischief as James swung around and scowled at him. "And if we're late, you can bet McGonagall will skin us alive and feed us to her pet dragon." He shuddered, theatrically.

"Does she _have_ one?" Peter interjected sceptically.

"I wouldn't put it past her, Peter my lad."

*******

"Where _is_ the teacher?" James hissed, some fifteen minutes later as the class shifted restlessly. "Old Burbank should have been here by now."

"It's not Burbank," Lily commented from just behind him, "He left at the end of last term. It's someone new."

"Well why aren't _they_ here, and why didn't we see them at dinner last night?"

"How should I know?"

Sirius rolled his eyes and fiddled with his quill, trying to block out the rest of the class, who were complaining equally loudly. To his right, Peter had given up on waiting and pulled out a piece of parchment, on which he was doodling. It was, Sirius reflected thoughtfully, the smaller boy's one true talent. Ask Peter to solve an Arithmancy problem, and you'd be waiting for an answer for over a hundred years. Ask him to sketch something, however…

Smiling, the black haired boy turned his attention back to James, who had now turned around in his seat and was bickering with Lily.

"Well if you know so much, why don't _you_ teach the class?"

"Oh don't be stupid, James, just because I'm better than you at something…"

"Which you're not, you just _study_ more. Tell her, Sear." James nudged his friend, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Lily, you're smarter than this wanker."

"Hah." The red head sat back in her seat, arms folded across her chest and a smug air about her.

"_Sirius_!"

"What? I told her the truth!" Sirius's expression was as innocent as an angel's, but the glint in his eyes was that of the devil.

James scowled and muttered something unintelligible (but no doubt unflattering) under his breath.

Smirking, Sirius leapt to his feet and onto a desk. "Ladies and gentlemen!" All heads turned in his direction. "Since we seem to be at a loss for a teacher, Ms Evans here will take the lesson for you – helped by her lovely assistant, Mr Potter!"

There was a lot of enthusiastic applause and Lily, blushing, sank lower in her seat. James, on the other hand, brightened considerably. Sirius, grinning, proceeded to hop lightly from one desk to the next, shouting:  "Pray silence for the great Miss Evans and Mr Potter!"

The classroom fell into an expectant hush and in the quiet there could be heard footsteps coming down the corridor and stopping outside the classroom door.

Sirius turned, ready to jump back off the desk, just as the classroom door opened and the new Professor walked in.

The first impression that hit was one of faded grandeur. The teacher had a slender body, clad in a faded green robe. His hair, a light brown, was shaggy and clearly grew naturally that way. His eyes were a quiet unassuming hazel above a straight nose and surprisingly thin, but sensitive, mouth and his face was pale and pointed. Large purple shadows under his eyes and faint hollows in his cheeks, however, clearly showed that the man had been ill recently.

Remus had been apprehensive when he's opened the classroom door. He'd been warned by the other teachers that this class was by far the worst. Not only would he have to contend with several of the students who were not especially good at the subject, but, apparently, there were two boys who had driven the old teacher into early retirement. Setting his books down on the desk at the front, he glanced up at the boy standing on the table and had to resist the urge to bite his lip worriedly.

Clearly this was Sirius Black. Out of the two boys, this was the one he had been warned against the most. Apparently the one called Potter had calmed down slightly since he'd acquired a girlfriend with a practical head on her shoulders, but Black…well, according to McGonagall he was just a troublemaker, pure and simple.

The boy stared back at him, large grey eyes suspiciously innocent as they looked at him from behind the veiled curtain of almost femininely long lashes. His body was clearly wiry but slender beneath his robes, and the mischievous smile that seemed about to erupt on his face was only highlighted by the small dimples at the corners of his mouth. Long black hair hung down to the small of his back, neatly tied in a tail, and his face was tanned.

"Get off the table, please." Remus said quietly and, much to his astonishment, the boy did as he was told. Once on the floor, however, the teacher discovered his pupil was a good three inches taller than himself, and his newfound confidence took a slight downhill turn.

"Anything else, Professor?" The boy took a step forwards, clearly using his height as an intimidation as he stopped, only a handful of inches from the surprised teacher.

"No, just sit down, please." Turning abruptly, Remus swallowed hard and shuffled the books on his desk.

Smirking, Sirius sauntered back to his seat next to James. "What do you think?" He muttered out of the side of his mouth as the professor turned around again and leant against his desk.

"A bit young, isn't he?" James raised an eyebrow and darted a glance at Sirius. "Can't be more than twenty. By all rights he shouldn't be out of university yet."

"A bit daft, sending a teacher not two years older than us to look after us, isn't it?" Sirius leant forwards, resting his arms on the desk. "He won't survive two months."

"Want to make a bet on that?" James muttered, shooting his friend a sly smile. "Fifty galleons says he lasts to the end of the year."

"Fifty says two months and I'll have him fired."

"Done." The two boys shook hands, and turned their attention back to the teacher, who was smiling at something one of the other students had said at the front.

"Well, it's nice to meet you all," He began, his voice smooth and low. "I'm Professor Lupin and for the next year, I'll be teaching you Defence Against the Dark Arts." He smiled at the chorus of nervous helloes and leant back against the desk again. "Your final NEWT examinations are coming up fast," He said, "And we've got a lot to get through. Would you all please turn to page 32 in your textbooks?"

"So…what are you going to do?" James muttered as the class shuffled around, looking for books and pencil cases.

"Hmm?"

"How are you going to get him fired?"

"Don't you think that's incredibly mean?" Peter hissed from the other side of Sirius, his expression dark. "He doesn't look all that rich, and it _is_ his job."

"Oh, Pete, he's only a teacher." Sirius murmured, settling back in his seat and watching the unsuspecting professor through half lidded eyes. "Don't wimp out on us now. James will probably need you to lend him those fifty galleons when I win."

"And what makes you so confident?" James muttered.

Sirius smiled, unconsciously licking his lips as he continued to watch Remus. "Watch and learn, James, watch and learn…"

"Well I want nothing to do with it." Peter announced firmly, opening his textbook. "If you two want to ruin that man's career, go ahead, but I _won't_."

Sirius shrugged, grey eyes wicked. "You won't need to, Pete, I'll do it for you."

********

Remus shut the door to his office with an air of finality and leant his back against it, sighing in relief. Dropping his head back with a thump, he shut his eyes for a moment and exhaled slowly, trying to fight the tiredness that was threatening to overwhelm him.

Not two days had passed since the full moon, and having to spend the entire day running around teaching was not the best way to recover.

Still, he thought, brightening slightly as he moved over to sit in the armchair in one corner it hadn't been a _bad_ first day, and his first class, despite subtle warnings from other members of staff, had been surprisingly well behaved.

Sirius Black, though… Remus suppressed a small frown as he remembered how the boy had simply sat in his lesson, looking for all the world as though he hadn't been paying any attention. He had, though. Remus had asked him several questions and he'd answered all of them perfectly. _But he hadn't stopped staring at him_. Remus frowned as he remembered how those silver eyes had followed him around the classroom, a knowing smile adorning the owner's face. He shivered and sank gratefully into the armchair, his mind replaying the lesson as he wondered exactly _what_ it was that Sirius knew.

A knock on the door interrupted his reverie, and sighing, he got up to answer it.

McGonagall stood outside, her expression grim. "Professor, I gave a detention out to two of my students this morning, but unfortunately, I want them separated. Would you be so kind as to look after this one, and give him something to do for an hour and a half?"

"Certainly." Remus smiled, hiding his tiredness behind a wall of scholarly concern and wondering if there actually _was_ anything for the pupil to do.

"Thank you." Professor McGonagall favoured him with a warm smile and turned to her left, frowning at someone just out of sight. "You behave," She snapped, "If Professor Lupin tells me you've put _one toe_ out of line, you can kiss Quidditch and free weekends goodbye. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor." A male voice muttered.

Remus felt his eyes widen. _Oh no, it can't be…_

McGonagall nodded in satisfaction and turned back to her horror stricken colleague. "I'll leave him with you then." She said, and marched off down the hallway.

Remus swallowed, and turned around, heading for his desk and the relative safety it provided. "Come in then." He said around a dry throat.

Sirius stuck his head around the door and favoured the teacher's back with a wicked smile that melted into one of innocence as soon as Lupin turned around again. "What do you want me to do, Professor?"

Remus sank into his desk chair and laced his hands together. "Well, shutting the door would be a good start." This drew a slightly startled and unexpected smile out of the errant pupil, and he began to think things might not be so bad.

Shutting the door, Sirius retreated to the armchair his teacher had been sitting in earlier. "I hope you haven't got anything _too_ boring for me to do." He said, watching as Remus frowned and picked up a book on his desk.

"To be honest, I haven't got anything for you to do." Lupin admitted, opening the book at a book marked page. "You'll just have to amuse yourself for a while…Sirius, isn't it?"

The boy's lips twisted into a small smile. "Yes, Professor."

Nodding, the teacher glanced towards the bookshelf. "You're welcome to borrow a book," He added.

********

He was watching him again…

Remus twitched, trying to ignore the silver eyes that were resting on him, their gaze half lidded as Sirius didn't even bother to pretend to be reading.

_Blast it,_ the teacher thought irritably, _just WHAT is he staring at? Has my hair suddenly changed colour?_ Looking up, he raised an eyebrow at the student. "Problem?" He asked mildly, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was.

"Oh…" A small smile curved Sirius's lips, and he licked them unconsciously, a strange, predatory gleam in his eye. "No, Professor. No problem."

"Good." Flushing slightly, and cursing himself for doing so, Remus looked back down at his book, Sirius's gaze still pricking his face.

Across the room, Sirius allowed the smile to widen slightly, his mind already gleefully at work. James had made him that bet, and he'd be damned if he didn't win it. Coming to a decision, he stood up, wincing as his muscles protested loudly after prolonged stillness. Quietly moving across the room, he picked up a small box and studied it. "Excuse me for asking, professor, but what's in here?"  
  
"Hmm?" Remus looked up. "Oh, that's only a box I was given a long time ago. There's nothing in it." He stood up and padded over to where Sirius was still running curious hands over the wood. "Here, you just press this…"

The lid clicked open, but as it did, a sharp rap sounded on the door. Both men jumped as McGonagall stuck her head around the door. "All right, Professor, his hour and a half's up." She frowned at Sirius. "And I meant what I said."

Sirius nodded, then turned to the new teacher.  "Thank you, professor Lupin, for putting up with me." He smiled, slowly, and Remus was uncomfortably aware of their close proximity. "Maybe I'll see you next time I have detention…"

The door clicked shut behind the boy, and Remus sank into the armchair with a groan. If he'd thought Black was a troublemaker before, it was evident now that the boy was pure evil.

It was going to be a _very_ long term…

To Be Continued… 

**CB:** Well, there's chapter one, not happy with it, but hey. This fic WILL be updated slowly, as Obsidian Rhapsody still takes priority. 


	2. Chapter Two

**CB:** *Beams* Wow, look at all the reviews – thanks guys! 

**Kotonaru**, **Baby chaos,** **TrinityTheSheDevil,** **Gdhjhtht,** **Metamorphism,** **DariaD,** **the-only-innocent,** **Rugbytackle-me,** **Gold Silk,** **Remus,** **Youn-Hee,** **Royal Romance,** **esaure,** **Charis Brokehm,** **BlueIce,** **Hitchcock,** **Tongari, bobby, kit[kat], Yuki Bombay, Wyall Jared, Padfootslittlegirl, Nolwe The Lady Dragon, SilerFoxBlueFox, Demosthenes42, chibi-ken14, Alex.**

_Thanks guys, you're all wonderful!_

_Cobalt_

 **Note:** Just to clear up a little bit of confusion: This is an **AU** (otherwise it wouldn't work, would it? ^_^)

"I still think it's a bad idea." 

Peter was pacing the shared dormitory nervously, his body stiff and straight as he glared defensively at James, who was sitting in a comfortable nest of clothing on the floor. Sirius, who was lounging on his bed, watched the plump boy through slitted eyes, a lazy smile curling his lips.

"You worry too much, Pete," James announced, running a despairing hand through his messy hair, "It's not like the school can't get another teacher."

"That's not the point!" Peter snapped, "He looks like he needs the money, and quite apart from that, it's _cruel_." He scowled and folded his arms across his chest, halting his pacing. "Just…don't do it, ok?" He turned pleading eyes on Sirius, who simply yawned.

"Where's your backbone, Peter?" 

The shorter boy stiffened, his expression angry. "It's not about backbone, Sirius, it's about doing the right thing, and I believe you're doing the _wrong_ thing."

"Rubbish," James chose that moment to intervene, "It's perfectly ok, Pete. Besides, there's no harm _really_ meant." He grinned and scrambled to his feet. "Besides, it'll earn me fifty galleons, and then I'll buy you an entire crate of chocolate frogs, ok?"

"Who says you'll win those fifty galleons?" Sirius hadn't moved, but his eyes were fully open now, and his face was alert.

"Like you'll actually get a teacher fired," James scoffed, "There's no way in hell you'd manage it Black."

"Oh yeah, says who?"

"Says me."

"Ladies and gentlemen; James Potter, the resident expert on the inability to allow teachers to continue at their current place of employment."

"Wow, I'm surprised you actually know words of more than one syllable!"

"Prat!"

"…I take that back."

Sirius flipped a rude gesture in James's direction, before rolling onto his stomach to stare at the wall. "Besides, this Lupin will be a pushover, you'll see. All I need to do is make him so nervous that he slips up on his own – then it's simply a case of reaping my just rewards."

Behind him, James raised an eyebrow as Peter snorted in disgust. "What makes you so confident, Sear?"

Sirius, still with his face to the wall, smiled. It was a small, wicked smile, that neither James nor Peter saw, and when he spoke, there was no hint of it in his voice. "Oh, nothing really, just call it a hunch…"

********

"The three tongued Lorat Lizard can only be found in swampy areas." Remus smiled at the class, who were studiously scribbling notes. "Normally I would leave this kind of thing to your Care Of Magical Creatures teacher, but the Lorat is exceptionally dangerous and is often used as a sort of familiar for many of the more…ah…_eccentric_ dark wizards of Africa." He paused, picking up the textbook, and flipped to a neatly labelled diagram of the beast. "As you can see, it has a hypnotic stare, along with a swift, deadly poison that can kill a man in under three minutes."

The girl in front of him – who was chewing her lower lip and hurriedly copying down his every word – winced. 

Hiding a smile, Remus shut the book with a snap and leant back against his desk, folding his arms. "Now, there are several ways to destroy a Lorat Lizard, but the most effective –" He was cut off by a sudden, abrupt knock on the door, followed by the shuffling of feet just outside.

"Yes?"

There was a creak and Sirius stuck his head around the door.

His dark hair was hanging messily around his face, small strands of it caught in the corner of his mouth. His eyes were wide and his robe was askew, looking as though it had been thrown on in a hurry.

"Uhh…Professor?" 

Remus stiffened, his lips thinning into a line. "Yes, what is it?"

Sirius took a step into the room, a grin threatening to break out across his face. "Professor McGonagall wanted to know whether she could borrow 'Curses and Cures' for her advanced class."

"Yes, certainly." Turning, Remus scrabbled in his desk and produced the book. Holding it out, he started when Sirius crossed the room swiftly.

"Thanks professor." A smile really _was_ curling his lips now, and Sirius let it, even as he reached out to take the book.

Remus jumped as their hands brushed, and pulled away so fast it was as though he had been burned. "Not a problem." He turned his back, expecting the student to leave, but a polite cough from behind him indicated that this as not to be the case.

"One more thing, Professor." Sirius's face was as innocent as an angel's as he stared at the agitated teacher from out of widened grey eyes. "I was wondering…would you mind helping me with the essay you set us yesterday? I didn't understand the section on the counter curses that we have to include."

"Er…" Remus blinked, completely thrown. "Well, I…" He coughed and realised that the class was staring at him. "Certainly, Sirius." He shot the boy a weak smile, fighting to regain control of his instincts, which were all screaming at him. "Just come along after dinner."

"Thanks." Sirius beamed at him and, gripping the book, all but pranced from the room.

********

"What a day." McGonagall sighed and sank down into one of the armchairs in the staff room. Summoning a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits from across the room, she settled down slightly, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "Those bloody third years managed to transfigure a desk into half a horse."

"Half?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow from where he sat. "Where was the other half?"

"It was still a table." 

"Ah, I see."

"Then to top it off, I had to deal with Potter and Black last lesson of the day." McGonagall scowled (her eyes still closed) and sank lower into her armchair. "_They_ managed to cause a riot by hexing two of the Slytherins in the back. I had to send three students to the hospital wing to have feathers removed. I've threatened the both of them with a ban from Quidditch, but I want to see Gryffindor win the cup as much as the next teacher. I don't know what to do with them any more."

Flitwick tutted in sympathy and nibbled on a biscuit. "Those two," He piped, "Are hopeless. I'm surprised you haven't expelled them, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled over his own cup of tea. "I believe everyone has potential, even Mr Potter and Mr Black, and to expel them would serve no purpose save to ruin that potential."

Remus bit his lip, gulping down the rest of his tea. "Do either of them struggle with their subjects?"

"Hah!" McGonagall's eyes flew open. "There would be some sort of divine justice in that if they did, Lupin. No, those two give all their energy over to creating mayhem and they _still_ achieve exceptionally high results. They're clever, there's no doubt about that."

"Why do you ask?" Dumbledore's faded blue eyes peered over his spectacles. 

Remus shrugged, a little uncomfortably. "Sirius said he didn't understand some of the things I was teaching them yesterday. I was a little surprised, given the perfect answers he gave in class."

"Black not understanding something? That'll be the day." McGonagall pursed her lips, opening her eyes. "Sounds to me like he's up to something. I'd watch out if I were you."

Remus swallowed hard, unease prickling his skin. "Well, I didn't think there was any harm in…" He began.

"A mistake." Flitwick interrupted, "Seriously, Sirius Black is trouble. "Guaranteed he's up to something."

"Er…"

"Don't listen to them, Remus." Dumbledore smiled, catching his colleague's worry and embarrassment. "Sirius has a good heart really," (McGonagall gave a small snort of disbelief) "And you never know, you may even be the role model he needs to straighten himself out."

"Yes…well…" Remus coughed and stood up hurriedly, smoothing his robes, "I promised I'd meet him and explain the topics…" Turning, he all but fled the staff room.

As he approached his office, the sight of a tall, slim figure in faded jeans and a t-shirt standing outside his door made his heart sink slightly. Carefully putting a neutral expression on his face, Remus hurried up, pulling the key out of his pocket as he did so. "Sorry I'm late, Sirius."

The boy smiled, running a hand through his hair, which had been let loose. "Not a problem, professor." His lips twitched into a small grin and Remus noticed with somewhat distracted disbelief that they were blue.

"What happened to your…er…" Remus traced the air in front of his lips.

"Huh? Oh…" Sirius' fingers touched his lips lightly, "Sweets. 'Tempests' Tongue Painters'," Digging in his pocket, he produced a slightly crumpled packet as Remus opened the door. "Want one?"

"No thank you." Remus shot him a genuine smile and lit the candles with a wave of his wand. "Now, grab a chair and I'll try and explain the counter curses you were having problems with. Were there any ones in particular?" 

Sirius shook his head, dragging a chair across the room to the desk. "No, just the general background to each of them and how we've got to include them in the essay."

"Well, the background's fairly simple." Reaching over, Remus dug around in a drawer for a scrap of parchment and pulled a quill out as well. "You simply need to do a bit of research. Which wizard developed the counter curse; how they went about it; _why_ they formed it – often there's an interesting story behind _that_ particular aspect." He paused, eyes alight with a true scholar's passion for his subject. "Take Edwards for example. He came up with a counter curse that effectively blocked the 'Cackling Curse'."

"'Cackling Curse?'" Sirius, despite himself, looked interested.

"Mmhm. A nasty piece of work, that. First known to be used in the middle ages. Most Muggles knew it as the Plague, or the 'Black Death'. However, for wizards, it had a much nastier side effect. Contraction of the disease, and, subsequently the curse, meant that the witch or wizard could, quite simply, lose control of their magic. This being the case, it was possible for them to reveal themselves to muggles quite accidentally."

"So why was it called the '_Cackling_ Curse?"

"Oh, because muggles believed witches used to cackle." Remus smiled and scribbled the name of the curse on a piece of paper. "Why not research that one and Edwards' counter curse to put in the essay. It's fairly simple to write about."

Sirius nodded, leaning closer. "So, how many should we include?"

"Only about three or four." Remus hadn't noticed the student's slight shift. "I'd personally go for the ones in the textbook, although I must confess, it would probably be a good idea to do a bit of independent study. You're almost certain to get higher marks that way."

"Oh." Sirius reached over and plucked the quill from the surprised teacher's hand. Scribbling a little note at the bottom of the parchment, he frowned. "Any others you could recommend?"

"There's always the 'Avada Kedavra'."

"I didn't think we were allowed to even _know_ about that." Sirius looked thoughtful. 

Remus shrugged. "We'll be doing a piece on it sometime next term, so technically you'd be preparing in advance as well." Amber eyes flickered across to Sirius's face, almost by accident, and became transfixed.

The student was staring at the parchment, an expression of concentration on his face. The tip of the quill's feather was running slowly over his slightly blue lips as his stormy grey eyes travelled over the parchment in front of him. His hair had slipped to one side (and Remus wondered momentarily if it had been deliberately placed thus) exposing the nape of his pale neck and tumbling over one shoulder.

Shaking his head, the young teacher attempted to gather his thoughts again. "Er…yes. So, the Avada Kedavra might be a good one."

Sirius looked up, and Remus found himself suddenly caught in the knowing gaze of his pupil. "What other curses would you recommend, professor?"

"…Well I think I should leave you to decide that," Remus mumbled around a suddenly dry throat. "Why not have a look in the library?"

A raised eyebrow. "But I wouldn't know _where_ to begin. Maybe you could help me?"

_'Sirius Black is trouble…_' Hadn't that been what Flitwick had said to him? '_Guaranteed he's up to something…_'

"I'm…I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'd probably be more of hindrance than a help." Remus smiled weakly, but his expression froze as Sirius leant nearer, warm breath tickling his cheek.

"Nonsense, I'd get in a horrible muddle on my own." Sirius's smile was beguiling. His expression would have been called sincere if it wasn't for the small, slightly odd glimmer in his eye that hinted at another motive.

"No, really." Remus swallowed, fighting the urge to lean back, to cringe away from human contact. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Only for half an hour then?" Sirius leant still closer, clearly unwilling to give up. "And I promise I won't ask for any more help."

"All right." Remus shot to his feet. "But we'd best hurry. Madame Pince will be shutting the library soon and I'll need to talk to her to let us use it for a while longer."

Sirius smiled, his eyes half lidded. "Thank you, Professor."

********

A blaze of candles shimmered in the centre of the library, amongst the dark, brooding shelves. Outside it had grown dark, and so most of the room had been thrown into gloom as well, but Sirius had displayed a practicality Remus would not have credited him with, and simply fetched more candles.

Teacher and student were sitting at one of the tables nestled in the centre of the library, surrounded by huge bookcases. Work, quills and scraps of parchment were spread across the surface of the table and piles of books wobbled precariously at the corners.

Sirius, who had returned with yet another tome, paused as he rounded the corner of a bookcase and dumped the latest book on a new stack. "Here, I've found another one on Edwards," He announced, flopping down into the seat next to Remus. "I think that must be it."

Remus was surprised to find that he was enjoying himself. It was nicer to be near someone who was close to his own age and Sirius had demonstrated an amazing amount of patience as the young teacher had painstakingly explained curses and counter curses and how to formulate an essay. The intended half an hour had come and gone a good while back, and Remus had completely forgotten his intention to leave

"I don't think we'll need any more." He smiled at Sirius and pulled the book towards the both of them, "We must have about nine on Edwards alone."

Sirius nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I hadn't realised there were so many on curses." He commented.

Remus shrugged. "It's just a case of knowing what to look for," He said absently, flicking through the book and trying to find relevant pieces.

"Hmm." Sirius watched him.

The teacher's shaggy light hair was picked with blonde streaks in the candlelight, his young, tired face was made to look younger still and his lower lip was absently being nibbled as he flicked quickly through the pages, slender fingers running almost lovingly over the book's paper. His fringe was falling into his eyes and, as Sirius watched, it was pushed impatiently back.

"Ah hah!" Remus's triumphant exclamation drew Sirius' attention back to the present. "Just as I thought."

"What?" 

Remus looked up as Sirius leant over his shoulder, a strand of his dark hair tickling the professor's cheek. "This book has a whole chapter on counter curses. You can use this."

"Really?" Sirius contrived to look interested, when he couldn't really have cared less. The warmth of the shorter man's skin through his robes was beginning to distract him slightly, and he shook his head, trying to clear it. '_Concentrate, Black_.'

The movement distracted Remus from his explanation and he blinked, suddenly aware of how late it was growing. "Good grief, Sirius, why didn't you tell me the time?" He stood up, causing the student to take a quick step backwards to avoid being accidentally hit. "You should have been back in your dormitory at least an hour ago." Shaking his head, Remus gathered the books into a pile, neatly stacking them to one side. "Here, go and put these behind the desk whilst I tidy up." 

Sirius nodded and trotted quickly off towards the front of the library, cursing under his breath. He had _just_ got the perfect set up when the bloody teacher had realised the _time_ of all things. Scowling, he shoved the books behind the desk, fighting back an irrational surge of anger. Well, he thought in a sudden philosophical burst, the teacher _had_ only been around a couple of days, and James hadn't put a time limit on the bet…he'd simply have to work a little harder.

A small smile curled his lips as his good mood returned as abruptly as it had vanished, and he turned around in tim to catch sight of Remus standing by the library door.

"Ready?" The teacher smiled at him and gripped the door handle of the library. "If you run into any problems on your way back to your dormitory, just tell them you were with me."

Sirius nodded. "Thanks, Professor."

Swiftly crossing the room, he stood close to Remus as the teacher carefully extinguished the candles, giving an involuntary jump when the last one went out, plunging the room into pitch darkness.  Staggering slightly, his fingers brushed material and he made an involuntary grab for it, trying to regain his balance. There was a muffled "Ouch!" and he felt Remus stagger as well.

"Sirius, are you all right?"

Cross with himself, Sirius groped for the door handle. "I'm fine – just didn't expect it to be so dark."

"No, me neither." There was a wry humour in Remus's voice and he jumped as fingers skittered across his cheek. "I think the door's the other way." He added, as Sirius muttered a curse under his breath.

"Sorry." The boy's fingers, however, paused, resting on the arch of his cheekbone. When Sirius's voice next came, it was thoughtful. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

How old are you?"

"That's a bit of a personal question, isn't it?" Remus was starting to feel uncomfortable again, and he realised Sirius must be standing quite close – he could feel his body heat. "If you must know, I'm not quite twenty."

"A bit young to be teaching, aren't you?" Sirius's fingers were slowly sliding down his cheek, as though he was trying to map Remus's face by touch alone.

"Yes, well." Remus began, then cursed at the slight tremor in his voice, "I didn't go to university."

"And you're teaching?" Sirius's voice was low, amused, warm and Remus silently began scrabbling for the door handle, suddenly aware of how close they were in the darkness; how entirely inappropriate the situation was and, most worrying of all, how he didn't seem to mind terribly. 

The fingers had reached the corner of his lips and they rested there for a moment. "Why aren't you at university?"

"It…didn't suit me." Remus closed his eyes, praying that Sirius wouldn't suspect the lie and that he'd find the door. Every time he spoke, his lips brushed the smooth pads of fingers. "And it really isn't any of your business," he added.

"Ah." Sirius' fingers traced the outline of his lips in the dark. "Well," (And his voice had become slightly lower, a little huskier, Remus realised with a small, involuntary shiver,) "Thanks for helping me, professor."

There was a sudden burst of light as Sirius flung the door open and before Remus had even had time to collect his thoughts, the other man had gone, vanishing down the corridor so rapidly, that it was difficult to imagine that he'd ever been there in the first place.

To Be Continued… 


	3. Chapter Three

**CB:** Gah… over seventy reviews for two chapters… dies from happiness Wow…so nice to know that all you folks are reading this! (And a BIG thank you to Zenappleberries for showing me the major plot hole in this that, sadly, will never be fixed because I am too damn lazy for my own good. ;)

Big thanks to: Anonymous, kit [kat], Screwed Up, Youn-Hee, Hannio, Wyll Jared, Faulty Cognition, Doctor Zosfmov, esaure, Rhiannan Star, Nowle the Lady Dragon, Demosthenes42, JW Grey, silver-sunn101, Black Crystall Draygon, korosu, buffy-soul, hornyfangirl, Alex, the-only-innocent, Amaroq, Blue ice, Walking-Paradox, insight-to-insanity, Yuki Bombay, Hedwig Trelawney, Ito-Kun, silk, Moonix, baby chaos, Telpei, Dragon Pearl1, Vixen, Affected Mango, YukiDragon, Nya, Kary Asakura, Akuma Malick: Queen of the Typos, buffy-soul, bakasu, empath89, snerkish, KatFay, Caity-Cat, Professor Potter-Malfoy, savvytruffle, YYO, Raiknii, The Fallen Caryatid. 

**NOTE:** I know Sirius ran away from his home earlier than seventh year, but for the purposes of this story, he _is_ still living there during the holidays.

_The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul_

_ grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself._

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1891 

"Knock, knock."

"Sod off."

"_Knock, knock_!"

A well-aimed pillow caught James around the face and he staggered back dramatically. "Peter! I'm wounded!" Slipping to his knees, he gasped dramatically. "Avenge…my…death…"

"No." Peter didn't even look up from the textbook he was worrying over.

Sirius grumbled and rolled over onto his back. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. Hair mussed, face pale and with a dazed look in his eyes, he was _not_ at his best – something that James felt it was necessary to point out in a very loud voice.

Another pillow hit him around the head.

"Ouch! Sirius, don't throw those things so hard! They actually do _hurt_!"

Sirius scowled, swinging his legs out of the bed. "I have a _headache_, Potter, and _you_ are not helping it," he groused. "Why can't you go down to the common room or something? I only want a bit of peace."

"Sorry, mate. Lily's a bit cross with me at the moment…I thought it more prudent to stay up here." James's expression was irritatingly cheerful. "Look, why don't you go to Pomfrey? She can probably whip you up something that will fix it." He grinned and sat down on the edge of his friend's bed, affectionately punching Sirius's shoulder. "I'll even go down there with you, if you like."

"No!" Sirius looked vaguely alarmed. "I've been banned from the hospital wing, remember? Pomphrey swore if I came back within three months she'd tie me to a chair, break all my bones and then make sure they grew back _slowly_." He shuddered and swung his legs off the bed. "Maybe I just need some fresh air."

"Still want me to come?" James offered, thoughtfully stealing one of Peter's jelly slugs that lay within handy range.

"Nah, I need some peace and quiet. I won't be long." Sirius stood up, tugging on a pair of expensive boots. "I'll just go for a quick walk around the castle and back again."

"Ok then." James looked slightly dubious as he glanced out of the window. "It's hell out there, mate, you might want to take a cloak with you."

"What are you? My mother?" Sirius grinned as his friend, absently picking up said cloak.

James shuddered. "No offence, Sear, but I'd rather be eaten by a dragon than be even remotely associated with that miserable bat."

"Yeah." Sirius's expression closed for a moment as he turned away from his two friends towards the dormitory door. "Well, I'll see you all in a little while, eh?"

"Be careful!" James's voice rang out from behind him before the heavy oak door shut with a thud.

Flopping back on Sirius's bed, James stared at the red velvet above him. "Oy, Peter?"

"Hmm?" Peter sounded distracted as he flicked through the textbook, searching for a reference to the Hungarian Horntail – a creature they were studying for Care of Magical Creatures.

"Is it just me, or has Sirius seemed a bit…reticent about his family recently?"

"Now that you mention it," Peter shut the book with a snap and looked up, "he _hasn't_ mentioned them much, and he keeps avoiding the topic."

"Think there are problems at home?" James looked worried as he sat up slowly, raking a hand through his hair. "I mean, I know his family are awful and all, but, I don't know…" He sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "It just seems he's being even closer than usual about them. I mean, normally we at least get some sort of tale, or he'll read us something he was sent, but yesterday he got a letter from his mother, and I haven't heard _anything_ from him yet."

"Maybe he had an argument with them."

"He's _always_ arguing with them." James said crossly.

"Well…" Peter paused and plucked a jelly slug from the jar he kept them in. "Maybe this time it's worse than usual."

He received a blank look from James. "Yeah, anyway…"

The shorter boy rolled his eyes. "Maybe something really serious has happened this time. Maybe they've had a really big argument."

"They're always really big," James remarked.

Peter gave up. "Well, we won't know until Sirius tells us, will we?"

AaAaAaAa

/'Sirius…'/ 

The icy wind numbed him completely, stinging his cheeks until he could no longer feel the pain, stealing the warmth from his very bones. Around him, the rain lashed down, soaking him to the skin, despite the thick cloak and drenching his hair so that it straggled against his face and down his back. The piece of paper fluttered between pale fingers, its ink already smudged and blurring.

/'You father and I are thoroughly disgusted in you. We hear that you have been keeping from us the fact that you have been living in the same dormitory with a muggle born for the past six years. You seem to think that this is something that is, quite obviously, beneath you to mention.'/

Bloody Regulus and his bloody spying, he thought furiously.

/'What were you thinking? You should have demanded a room change at the very start of your first year. We will be writing to the headmaster to inform him that if he wishes to mix filth with purity, it is his school, but that you, as a Black, will be removed from this offensive presence immediately./

/'Another thing that has come to our attention is your lack of ability with your schoolwork. You are constantly in trouble, more often than not because of something that Potter boy has dragged you into. Whilst we appreciate he is a pure blood, you will refrain from his company and devote yourself to your studies like your brother. Be assured, if you do not strive harder to uphold the Black name, we will not hesitate in removing you from that school and placing you elsewhere.'/

That was it. Nothing else. No "have a good year, son", or, "we love you and will see you soon", just a cold, hard dictation in the form of a letter. It wasn't even particularly long, just full of the same, verbal abuse and dismissal he was used to at home.

Stuffing the letter in the pocket of his robe, Sirius tilted his head back, letting the rain splatter his face. Letting out a long sigh, he felt his hands involuntarily form fists as he thought of the casual, cruel note.

'I hate them,' he thought passionately, leaning back against the castle wall with a thud, 'I HATE THEM!'

Scowling, he shifted and pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. Not caring that students were not allowed to smoke on school grounds, he lit one and leant back against the wall again, staring up into the dark, cloudy night sky.

'All my life, I've had nothing but grief from them,' he thought moodily. 'I wasn't the son they had wanted and I wasn't the daughter they could have passed off in marriage to gain more wealth and social standing. I never let them trample me like Regulus did, but despite their encouragements to be proud and strong, they hated it when I stood up to them. They're all a bunch of hypocrites.'

A small, bitter smile twisted Sirius's lips as he drew out the letter again, unable to resist looking at it again – its words like an angry wound that needed to be continuously probed despite the pain. 'It's still about control, isn't it?' He addressed the letter silently, not able to actually make out the writing any more, because of the rain soaked paper. 'You've still got to rule my life, despite the distance. You can't bear me wanting to be my own person instead of a Black.'

His face took on a stony expression as he continued to stare at the paper.

'Well, forget it. I'm not playing your little games. Not any more. This is my life now, and I'll be damned if you rule it.'

A sudden, abrupt movement and the letter had been torn, ripped to shreds and blown away by the wind, spiralling damply off into the night.

'Don't think you can tell me what to do now,' Sirius thought, watching the last piece of paper flutter onto the grass. 'I'm my own person…I'll make my own rules.'

His lips twitched, a half smile curving them, and despite the bitterness of the expression he felt suddenly lighter as he took a drag from the cigarette.

"You're not supposed to smoke on the castle grounds." A polite, well-educated voice reprimanded him above the rising shriek of the wind.

Sirius jumped, cursing as the cigarette tumbled from his grasp to extinguish itself on the rain soaked floor. Looking up, he saw Remus standing in front of him, a small frown on his face, arms folded tightly across his chest as he obviously attempted not to shiver.

For a long moment there was silence – neither man uttering a word, the only sound the rain, which continued to fall heavily.

"Sorry," Sirius said after a pause, "I was just dying for one." He shot the teacher a lopsided smile. "Appalling habit; I should pack it in."

Remus nodded, lips pursed. "Indeed. Incidentally, I don't suppose you'd know anything about this, would you?"

Sirius glanced at the teacher's outstretched hand and stiffened in horror. From between long, pale fingers dangled a limp scarp of parchment – the remains of the letter.

"Uh…no. Should I?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounded overly casual – forced.

"You're the only one out here. Might I remind you, Mr Black, that it is inconsiderate to drop litter." One gold eyebrow rose, but the effect was ruined by an abrupt shiver as the teacher hugged his arms even closer to his body.

"You're cold." Sirius's voice was soft, barely heard above the weather.

"Of course." The teacher scowled, but his heart wasn't really in it. A drip was forming on the end of his nose and his hair was plastered to his skull. "I came out here to make sure you were all right, but…I'd rather we went back in." He rubbed a hand across his eyes, blinking rainwater out of his vision. "If there's anything you wish to discuss, I think it would be much more preferable to talk indoors."

There was a pause – awkward and slightly embarrassing, before Sirius shook his head.

"No, thanks professor, but I should really be getting back. There's nothing the matter, so I don't want to waste your time."

Remus stared at him, eyes large and serious in his pale face. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure." Sirius tried to rake a hand through his hair, discovered several tangs and thought better of it. "Sorry for making you come out in this weather."

"I saw you from my office window and thought it was a bit late and stormy for a student to be wandering the grounds."

"Oh…"

Another pause.

'This,' thought Sirius, 'is very awkward. So why haven't I gone yet?'

"Well, if you're sure there's nothing wrong…" Remus said dubiously.

"Oh absolutely." Sirius forced a spark of brightness into his voice. "Nothing at all. Well, if that's everything professor," his voice rose to become heard over the shrieking wind, which had become stronger, "I'll be off to bed."

Backing away, he hurried in the direction of the main entrance, aware that sharp hazel eyes were watching his progress.

Flinging open the castle door, he dragged it closed behind him and leant against it, cloak hem dripping muddy water onto the flagstones. Somewhere overhead, he could hear the gentle buzz of life proceeding as normal and the cackle of Peeves as he terrorised a group of first years.

 "Ickle first years up to no good…a shame to have to report it to Filch," the poltergeist was saying. "What are you hiding?"

'Yes…' Sirius thought miserably, letting out an involuntary sneeze, 'what am I hiding?'

AaAaAaAa

'He was hiding something.'

Remus was sitting at his desk, hand propped on his chin, staring absent-mindedly into space. Beside him a cup of tea steamed quietly and in front of him a stack of essays were waiting to be marked. He was not, however, doing the work he had intended; rather, he was sitting there thinking about his errant student – a topic that would, no doubt, have set blood boiling in the staff room.

'He wasn't acting flippant or mischievous or…anything. He was just…tense, nervous, unsure.' The teacher frowned and idly sipped his tea. 'He didn't appear to be his usual self.'

"Remus?"

Dumbledore's face suddenly filled the teacher's vision and he jumped, spilling his tea.

"P-professor Dumbledore. I, uh, didn't expect you, sir."

"Indeed." The old wizard settled himself without preamble into one of the comfortable armchairs by the study fire. "I did knock several times, dear boy, but there was no reply. I do hope you'll forgive me for intruding like this." He smiled, his expression guileless. "You were quite lost in your own little world."

"I was just thinking." Remus shrugged and rose from his seat to gaze out of the window.

"You know," Dumbledore said suddenly, "the Greeks used to believe that Sirius was a sign of evil."

"I'm sorry?" The young teacher stared at the headmaster, confusion plainly written on his features.

"Sirius. The dog star."

"Oh, I see." He clearly didn't, but was polite nonetheless.

Dumbledore smiled, pressing his hands together and peering over his fingertips. "I do not, however, believe that our Sirius is evil. Nor do I believe that he is completely out of our grasp in terms of, perhaps, reigning in his often excessively mischievous attitude."

"Oh…good." Remus failed to see where this was leading, or, indeed, why Dumbledore had bothered to come at all.

"I noticed earlier, Remus, that you did not seem to treat young Mr Black with quite the same disgusted attitude as the rest of the staff." Dumbledore smiled benignly from behind his spectacles. "Indeed, you seemed quite concerned for him. This led me to wonder if, perhaps, you were not the answer to all our prayers."

"I hardly think…" Remus spluttered, his stomach sinking as he began to have the uneasy feeling he knew what was coming next.

Dumbledore held up one finger, silencing any protests. "I also noted that you followed Sirius outside earlier, this does you credit, of course." The headmaster looked thoughtful. "Sirius has not had any easy life, and it is often very difficult to talk to him. He simply refuses to trust adults." He sighed and stood up. "I simply ask that you keep an eye on him for me please. The next year is not going to be easy for him and it would be nice if he had a mentor."

"Mentor?" Remus croaked, hardly daring to believe his ears. Sirius certainly hadn't indicated he thought of Remus as a mentor.

"Why, yes." Dumbledore paused, his hand on the doorknob. "Sirius has been…treated cruelly by his family. I think it would be nice for him to have a good adult example to look up to."

"But I'm…"

"Only a year older? A werewolf?" Dumbledore smiled again. "My dear boy that has never stopped you before."

The door swung shut behind him with a quiet click that sounded like the final note of doom to Remus's thunderstruck ears.

AaAaAaAa

"You must have scared him off, Sirius," Lily commented, tilting her chair back onto two legs. "He hasn't turned up so far."

"I'm not surprised," a voice from behind the small group of friends commented, "one look at Black's ugly mug is enough to scare any normal person away."

"Fuck off, Snape." Sirius didn't even both to look up from his piece of parchment, where he was frantically scribbling a hasty note.

James watched the Slytherin resume his seat at the back of the classroom next to Lucius Malfoy, before he turned his attention back towards Peter, Sirius and Lily.

"I'm surprised you didn't think of some better retort than that, Sear. Usually you're in top form when it come to Snape."

"Mm, I guess." Signing the parchment with a flourish, Sirius eyed his handiwork  then neatly folded the note in half. "That said, Snape's a waste of space anyway, so what's the point in using up much needed oxygen on him?" As if to emphasise his point, he pushed his chair back abruptly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter demanded, "Professor Lupin will be here soon."

"Not far." Sauntering up to the front, Sirius dropped the note on the desk, then had to hurry back as the telltale footsteps of the young teacher rang out down the stone corridor.

"What was that?" Lily hissed, craning to try and see exactly where Sirius had put the note. "You're not pulling a prank on him, are you?"

"Certainly not!" Sirius looked wounded. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"He'd better not be," James muttered under his breath just as Remus walked in, "because if he is, I don't know about it."

Sirius didn't reply. Instead, his whole attention was now riveted to Remus, who had set his battered briefcase down next to the desk and was currently staring at the small scrap of parchment in front of him.

Hesitantly picking it up as thought it might explode ( a wise precaution, Sirius thought), he gently unfolded the note.

He looked thinner than when he had seem he last – two days ago – and Sirius stared thoughtfully at him propping his chin on one hand. He looked ill, too. Dark shadows circled his eyes and his skin seemed much paler. His frame appeared gaunt under his robe and he appeared to be walking with a very slightly limp – favouring his left leg as though it pained him to step on it.

His skin went even paler, Sirius noticed, as he read the note.

/Dear professor,

I'd love to have a private talk with you about some more of those curses. Meet me in Hogsmeade this weekend?

Yours,

Sirius./

Eyes wide, Remus stared first at the note, then at the student, who smiled, grey eyes alight with wickedness as he leant back in his chair, flicking his hair over one shoulder.

'Yes professor, I'd love to chat about those curses.' Sirius barely held his triumphant grin in check as he shot a glance at James, who raised an eyebrow. 'Scared yet?'

Swallowing, Remus folded the note back up and stuffed it in his pocket, nodding briefly at Sirius, whose grin simply grew.

'You should be…'

To Be Continued…

**CB:** My apologies for taking so long in this chapter. I lacked both the time and the inspiration to do it before now. I'm STILL not happy with it (I like complaining, can you tell?) but I thought it wasn't fair to keep you guys waiting even longer. Again, sorry for the


	4. Chapter Four

**CB:** Ok, this fic is my main priority now, and it'll be updated regularly. Thanks for being so patient!

**NOTE:** keeps mucking up my formatting – particularly in the last chapter, where I DID have scene changes, but the asterisks got deleted. From now on, scene changes will be represented as this: AaAaAaAa

**Thanks To:** Kiyoshi, Akurei Hikari, Yaoi Obsessive, kurokitenshii89, Veertje, Dragon Pearl1, randomficreader, The Hallowed Cat, Yamikitsune-chan, snerkish, Obviously Oblivious, DemonessOfPunishment, Demosthenes49, Evie, Voice Of Reason2, Midnight, bakasu, baby chaos, Kary-Asakura, xCherry-Flavoured-Suicidex, wolfscythe, Faulty Cognition, Akuma Malick: Queen of Typos, Wan wingu no tenshi, SephirothsGoddess, Ophel (I did have spaces between scene changes – marked with asterisks, but killed that. . Yep, I know it's moving slowly, but I was basically setting up the fic – now things will begin to happen! ), angeliris3, Lunaris, angry fangirl (Lol! Soon, soon…), confusion (oops, sorry! Hear that? That's the sound of me walking into my own plot holes/memory loss. ;;), Varis, LBx, The Fallen Caryatid, The Demonic Duo, Lilsi, Yaoi-Is-Gay-13, Wyall Jared, sbxrl4eva, Temys, the-only-innocent, Flame Solo, Pazza, FuzzyTuss, LythTaereneth, Chibi Alania, Anon, Mimi De La Dreama, Penny, C. LaBella, Eizoku, Shadow Cat17, Mon2, YukiDragon, The Syrin Songstress, Dawn Aurilain, Blinkelf, Prisoner-of-Sirius.

Thanks guys!

"Education is the power to think clearly, the power to act well in the world's work, and the power to appreciate life."

- **Brigham Young**

The Three Broomsticks was bustling with students and teachers alike, all arguing over their bar tabs and chattering excitedly to one another around crowded tables – safe in the knowledge that the weather outside might be awful, but the roaring warmth of the pub fire would drive away any lingering chill.

Remus stared mournfully into his mug of butterbeer, trying to blend into his shadowy corner and praying that no one – especially another member of staff – would notice that he was here. Sliding lower into his seat, he scanned the room for any really familiar faces and winced when he caught sight of McGonagall and Flitwick chatting amiably to Dumbledore across the room. If anyone was going to notice who he was meeting here, it would be Dumbledore.

Biting his lip, he debated whether it wouldn't be wiser to simply wait outside, tell Sirius that it wasn't possible to talk to him after all, and escape back to the castle. This vague idea was shattered, however, when the three teachers migrated to a table right next to the door, effectively barring any hope of escape. Frowning, Remus took a large gulp from his mug and settled down, realising it was hopeless to make good his escape now.

"You really shouldn't drink that so fast," an amused voice commented from somewhere over his head, "Butterbeer is meant to be…savoured."

Remus sighed. "Hello, Sirius."

The young man grinned, his eyes gleaming in the gloom of the corner. "Hello, Professor. Mind if I take a seat?"

Remus waved a hand at the chair opposite him. "Please, be my guest."

"Thanks." Instead of taking the indicated chair, however, Sirius sank down into the one next to his startled teacher, mischief flickering across his face as Remus jumped, then unconsciously shifted as far away as possible.

"So, about those curses…"

The dark haired man scoffed. "You really think I came here to talk to you about curses?" He grinned and shook his head, setting his excessively long hair – which had been tamed back into a ponytail – swaying. "No, dear teacher. I thought you looked a little…lonely, and I thought maybe you could use some _company_ on this fine Saturday afternoon."

Remus stiffened, wondering if _every_ sentence Sirius ever spoke was laden with innuendo, and _then_ wondering – with a flash of uncertainty – if maybe he was imagining things. _'Student_,' he reminded himself firmly, his hands curling into fists under the table as Sirius leant across, casually taking his mug and draining the last of the Butterbeer from it. _'He's your student._'

"So," Sirius put the mug back down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "want another Butterbeer, professor?" He grinned, not waiting for a reply and dug in his pocket for money. "I'll buy this one, if you like."

"No, I really…" But Remus got no further as Sirius slid out of the seat and sauntered over to the bar, stopping to talk to several other students and nod casually to McGonagall, who raised an eyebrow before turning back to talk to Flitwick.

Left alone, Remus allowed his misgivings crash over him once more.

_Be his mentor_, he thought grimly, silently mocking Dumbledore's words. _Be his bloody mentor. The boy's a menace, McGonagall was right, he's up to something. Who on earth wants to spend their Saturday afternoon with a teacher?_

He got no further, however, as Sirius returned, placing two mugs on the table with a heavy thud.

"So," he said, throwing himself back into the chair, "tell me a bit about yourself."

Remus shrugged, dutifully picking up his Butterbeer. "There's not much to tell," he said softly.

Sirius rolled his eyes and leant closer. "Ok, fine, what did you _really_ want to do after you left school?"

AaAaAaAa

"Can you see them?" James rubbed the glass, trying to dispel the fog clouding it, and peered closer.

"Yes, there!" Peter nudged James, guiding him to his own little spot of window. "They're sitting in a corner on the other side of the room, both facing us. Sirius has just handed Lupin a mug of something."

"He's getting him drunk?" James's words would have been a shriek, but the wind whipped them away. He scowled, unsure as to whether this method was actually allowed within the rules of 'The Bet'.

"No, no, I think he's handing him…" Peter squinted through the fogged glass, "…Butterbeer. Yes, I think it's Butterbeer."

James grunted, slightly mollified, and nudged Peter. "Any idea what Sear's plan is?" he asked, blowing on his fingers to warm them up.

"No idea whatsoever, but he does seem to be getting awfully friendly with that teacher." Peter bit his lip and sniffed, still fighting the lingering effects of a cold that had gripped him yesterday morning. "I _still_ don't think it's right," he added, determined to protest one last time in a futile effort to get James to back down and ask Sirius to do likewise. "I mean, he's not that much older than us, and…"

"In the name of Merlin's beard, Peter!" James swore, swinging around to face his friend. "Stop preaching! Ok, fine, you don't agree, but you've hammered the point home far enough, don't you think? I mean, whatever you say, I _know_ Sirius won't call off the bet, and if he refuses, then I will too. I'm not losing that much money to him! I need it more!" He scowled and pulled his cloak tighter around his body, ignoring Peter's shocked expression. "If you don't want to be a part of this, then don't be." He added, rubbing a patch in the window again. "But stop telling me how wrong it is to do what I want."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again, a resigned expression creeping across his features as he stared at James's stubborn expression as the dark-haired boy stared resolutely through the window. Just as he was about to say something, an apology, perhaps, James swung around, a look of panic scuttling across his face.

"Quick! They're coming out!"

"_What_?"

"They're coming out! If Sirius catches us spying, we are _so dead_." Grabbing Peter's arm, James steered him rapidly away from the pub and across the street. Turning their backs on the building, the two boys stared resolutely through the Post Office window, James praying Sirius wouldn't notice them, and Peter just praying.

In the reflection, they saw Sirius exit the pub, the bemused Professor trailing behind him. They watched as the long haired boy linked arms with the older man, dragging him through the rain-swept street, neatly avoiding any Hogwarts students and steering him carefully back towards the castle. The squelching of their footsteps faded away under the low moan of the wind, and James turned around again, cautiously.

"Hey, Peter?"

"What?"

"Did Sirius ever state that I couldn't intervene on behalf of my side of the bet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" James paused, weighing his next words carefully. "Sirius is going to all that trouble to try and get Lupin fired, and I'm not doing anything. Maybe I should be…thwarting his attempts, or something."

"You mean ruining his plans?"

"Precisely."

Peter shrugged dubiously. "I don't know," he said, "I don't _think_ Sirius ever said you couldn't…"

James grinned. "Come on," he said lightly, "I think it's time to do a little more spying."

AaAaAaAa

The Butterbeer was still gently warming Remus's stomach, despite the cold sting of the rain against his face. Sirius, walking next to him, seemed happily oblivious to the weather as he regaled the young teacher with a story that appeared to involve McGonagall, a biting teacup and the staff breakfast table in the great hall.

"And then," the long haired man was saying, his hands waving animatedly as he demonstrated, "she picked the cup up – in front of everyone, mind you – and…" he dissolved into helpless laughter and Remus, unable to resist the appeal of Sirius's laugh, smiled. "…And it bit her nose. Except James had charmed it to stay on for twenty four hours, so…so she had to t-teach…." He doubled up with laughter again and Remus, to his own surprise as much as Sirius's, laughed as well.

"Oh…" he gasped at length, wiping his eyes, partly from the tears streaming down his face, partly from the drizzle that had begun to fall lightly. "I think I would have paid to see that."

Sirius smiled as they paused at the edge of the village. "Well…I could always arrange it." His eyes sparkled with mischief, his hair falling around his face in limp, tousled strands, and the laughter died in Remus's throat.

"As your teacher, I'm afraid I would have to thwart any known attempt to prank a member of staff, Sirius," he said, trying to ignore the way Sirius raked his hair back with one hand, an amused smile playing around his lips. "Particularly poor Professor McGonagall. I'm sure that between the two of you, you and Mr Potter are responsible for the strands of grey that are beginning to creep into her hair."

Sirius shrugged, clearly not repentant. "What's the good of teachers if you can't humiliate them?" He demanded, his voice holding an edge of…Remus blinked…arrogance?

"Well, for one thing, they _teach_ you. I'm sure you would agree that it's probably important to learn charms, for example."

There was a snort and Sirius turned away. "_What_ would I use charms for?"

"Housework? One day, Sirius, I'm sure you'll get married, and I somehow don't think your wife will approve of doing _all_ the housework on her own."

"Married? Me?" Sirius's laughter was a rough bark as he tilted his face up to the sky, eyes drifting shut as he enjoyed the cool drizzle. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Professor. Marriage isn't really my…thing." He smiled, bitterly, and Remus bit his lip, wondering how the conversation had become so serious. "I'm not really the marrying type. Besides," Another laugh; this one hard and forced, "I'm sure my family will pick a perfectly suitable woman with a perfectly suitable dowry and a perfectly suitable entourage of House Elves."

"Your family?"

Sirius opened his eyes, scepticism gracing his features. "Don't tell me they haven't told you?"

"Told me what?"

"My family," Sirius said slowly, "are the Blacks."

Remus shrugged. "So? I'm sure lots of people have that surname."

"You're not getting this, are you?" Sirius sighed and finally looked at the young teacher. "As in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."

"Oh…" Remus blinked, feeling as though he had been punched in the stomach. "Purebloods…"

"The whole lot of them," Sirius agreed. He sighed again, turning away from Remus. "I'm surprised you _didn't_ know," he confessed, fingers absent-mindedly fiddling with one of the buttons on his leather jacket. "Most of the school knows," his mouth tightened, although Remus couldn't see, "I suppose that's one of the first things people hear about me. My reputation always seems to precede me." His voice was sour.

The bitterness surprised Remus. The truth of Sirius's family was a shock, not least of all because he had been teaching a member of the infamous Black family and hadn't known – or realised – it. Now that the secret was out, however, he began to see several things that should have given him some kind of clue. Sirius's looks, for example. Sleek black hair and pale eyes was a trademark that the Blacks prided themselves on. Impeccable dress sense was another. Even some of Sirius's mannerisms, Remus thought ruefully, gave him away. The beautiful, proud, perfectly crafted arrogance, for example, and the tendency to imply a sneer, even when being polite.

However… Remus frowned. There were several things that _didn't_ tally with what he'd heard, the first and most obvious being that Sirius was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. The boy's behaviour, as well, was not entirely at fault. He got the impression that despite the troublemaking and arrogance, a good, strong heart lurked beneath the obviously tough exterior. _'No wonder Dumbledore thought he needed someone to guide him…_' he mused.

"I suppose you won't be wanting to associate with the likes of me any more," Sirius said, lightly, although his voice held a faint note of disappointment. "I'm a Black, after all."

Remus took a deep breath. Here it was, his chance to steer…whatever it was they seemed to have…back into the realms of a pure student/teacher relationship. "You may be a Black," he said softly, surprising even himself, "but you are also Sirius. And I think that 'Sirius' is someone who is worth knowing."

There was a pause, as Sirius stared at him. The only sound was the soft patter of drizzle against the leaves of the nearby trees, and the distant shouts of other Hogwarts students as they made their way through the village. Nearby, a bird called once, twice, and fell silent and Sirius blinked, his expression disbelieving. Remus, in turn, smiled faintly, then turned on his heel, looking up towards the school.

"I think we should go back, don't you?" He commented quietly, already starting to walk.

"Wait!" Strong hands gripped his arm, swinging him around to face Sirius again. "Did you…did you really mean that?" The student's grey eyes were intensely focused, a strange, grave expression on his face.

"Of course, one thing that you will find about me, Mr Black, is that I never say anything that I don't mean."

"Professor…no." Sirius shook his head. "Look, what _is_ your first name? I can't keep calling you 'professor', or 'Professor Lupin'."

Remus hesitated, biting his lip. "Remus," he said at length, raising his gaze to meet Sirius's. "My name's Remus."

"Look, Remus…" Sirius exhaled sharply. "I appreciate what you just said." His eyes softened. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Remus smiled then peered at the sky. "I really think we'd better get back," he commented, "it's about to pour down."

Sirius nodded, and the pair started back up the hill in silence. As they walked, the drizzle steadily worsened, obscuring the pathway ahead and falling in a grey curtain around them. Remus shivered and pulled his cloak tighter against his body, wondering briefly why he hadn't thought to wait back in the pub. Beside him, Sirius trudged, occasionally pausing to brush damp strands of hair away from his face.

Suddenly, without warning, the rain grew harder, lashing down in torrents.

Remus thought he heard a yelped "Run!" from Sirius, but wasn't sure. He obeyed, however, dashing for the cover of the nearest tree, which spread its branches promisingly against the stark grey of the sky. Throwing himself beneath it, he felt an instant slack in the water pelting down on him. Seconds later, Sirius staggered underneath as well, and the pair of them huddled against the tree trunk, peering out at the driving rain.

"I think the weather's conspiring against us," Sirius said ruefully, breaking the silence that had been rapidly lengthening.

"It wouldn't surprise me." Remus sniffed and wiped the water from his face as best he could, trying to ignore the occasional splatter of rain that fell through the leaves to drip uncomfortably on his neck. He sniffed again and stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying hard not to shift awkwardly at the tense atmosphere rapidly developing between himself and Sirius within the shelter of the tree.

"So…you've heard all about me, but what about you?" Remus glanced sideways at Sirius to find the other man staring at him. Droplets of water clung to Sirius's lashes and skin, sparkling in the grey light. His hair was soaked, clinging to his face and neck in an intimate caress and Remus had to swallow and look away, feeling heat creeping through his body as he was shot a sharp, somehow smouldering look.

"I'm not entirely sure." Sirius shrugged and looked away as well, the hair on the back of his neck prickling with the tension. "I would say an Auror, but I think that would upset my family even more than being put in Gryffindor." He snorted and ran a hand through his damp hair, pulling it back from his face and wincing as his fingers became stuck. "I'd probably like to do something in music," he said suddenly, impulsively. "I…I love it. Music, I mean. I know it would be a waste of my schooling, but I was thinking, Muggle music, maybe." He laughed awkwardly. "Sounds stupid, I know, but I've never…I've never really told anyone that before."

Remus looked at him, a closed expression on his face. "I think you should do what you want to do," he said softly. "It's no use building a career on something you're not passionate about." He smiled. "If you think music is what you want to do, then I'm sure that if you put your mind to it, Sirius, you will be very successful."

"Are you lecturing me, Professor Lupin?" The awkward, slightly shy teenager had vanished, leaving Remus with the impression he'd glimpsed something very precious, and the pouting, sensuous creature of earlier was back. "Because I'm sure that _you_ aren't doing what you would like to."

Remus shrugged. "I've always wanted to teach," he said mildly, "I was told it was quite an experience."

"But it's not what you _really_ want to do, is it?" Sirius had moved nearer, his gaze burning onto Remus's face. "Come on, who _really_ wants to teach a bunch of stupid kids?"

"You're including yourself there, I notice."

"No," Sirius's grin was wicked, debauched. "There's nothing you could teach me that I don't already know." He smiled. "That's what comes of having a family obsessed with the dark arts."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "So, what I really want to do?"

"Really and truly."

The werewolf bit his lip, looking thoughtful. "Really? I'd have to say…probably to write a book. Create something that's utterly unique and my own, that no one else has ever done before." He shot Sirius a small smile. "So you see, I think both our ambitions are a little cliché and sound a bit stupid."

Sirius laughed. "But we'll do them nonetheless."

Remus laughed as well, and silence descended again, awkward and uncomfortable, settling like a cloak over the both of them. Remus stared off into the distance, trying to work out how far it was to Hogwarts, how far it was back to the village, how long it would be before the rain stopped, why Sirius was being so… he shook himself and dropped his gaze to the soaking grass some three feet away.

The only sound was the soft patter of rain and the gentle splash as it hit the leaves.

Sirius coughed and shifted, his boots making a squelch in the muddied ground.

_Breathe in…breathe out…_ Remus focused on the rhythm, trying to blank his mind as he stared ahead. _Breathe in…breathe out_. He was beginning to shiver slightly, and it wasn't simply with cold. Hard, icy realisation of an emotion that hadn't existed yesterday was creeping through his veins as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius idly begin to chew his nails. _Breathe in…_

"Hey, Pro – Remus?"

"Hmm?" Remus turned his head fully, looking at Sirius. _Should anybody that young look so…so…breathe out._

Sirius turned as well.

Breathe in… 

Pale hands darted out, dragging Remus off balance by the collar of his robe. Before he could blink or utter a word of protest, lips were crushing against his in a hungry, half desperate move. Sirius's fingers were suddenly buried in his hair, tugging him closer, ensuring that he couldn't escape.

_He's my student; he's my student…_ The words kept rushing through Remus's mind, even as Sirius shifted closer. _This is wrong, he's my student, I shouldn't let him…this is complicated….if someone sees…if anyone finds out…I don't like him, I'm not attracted to him…_

A soft moan vibrated against his lips and Sirius was cupping his face, still kissing him. Remus could taste the dull metallic tang of rainwater and the hot, wet heat of Sirius's mouth; the spicy sweetness that was entirely the other man and the soft, sickly sweet flavour of Butterbeer. He gasped, and Sirius pulled back, no more than a hair's breadth, then kissed him again, more gently, this time, simply nudging his lips apart slowly.

Slowly, hesitantly, Remus reached out, his hands straying to the damp black strands of hair that fell over Sirius' shoulders in a wet curtain. It took him a moment to realise that he was kissing the younger man back, and that Sirius was murmuring approvingly into his mouth as he wove his fingers through long, black hair, tugging slightly, pulling him closer.

_…Should be pushing him away…_ was his last coherent thought before Sirius parted his lips, pulling him closer still.

He could feel the cold of wet clothing against skin, sticking, clammy, and the hot flush spreading through his body from Sirius' fingertips against his cheek. He could feel the lush, burning sensation of Sirius tongue slowly, carefully coaxing his own and the icy sensation of rainwater trickling down his neck.

Slowly they parted, lips swollen and glistening.

_Breathe out…_Remus reminded himself. _Keep breathing_.

Sirius licked his lips, a small smile curling them.

AaAaAaAa

"What are they doing _now_?" James shifted impatiently from foot to foot. "Come on, Pete, don't spare me the details."

"Er…" Peter squinted, wiping rain from his eyes as he struggled to keep the two distant figures in focus. "I can't quite see…"

"Do you need glasses as well? Honestly, mate!" James, growing impatient, snatched the Spying Scope off of Peter and held it up to his eyes. "I'm glad I talked you into buying one of these," he added, peering into the little glass ball, "would have been tricky if I hadn't, eh?"

"I still don't know why we had to use _my_ money," Peter muttered rebelliously, folding his arms.

"I told you, I'm broke. I'll pay…"

"…Pay me back. Yeah, right Potter. How many times have I heard that one?"

"Fine, fine, but aren't you glad we're intruding on Sirius's private time with our dear teacher?"

"No, I've already told you, I don't _like_ this." Peter scowled, pursing his lips and deliberately looking away from James, who was still squinting into the Spying Scope. Sighing, he stared out across the rolling countryside surrounding Hogsmeade and listened to his friend muttering under his breath.

"…Can't believe him…how does he think befriending Lupin will help, anyway? Must be…wonder if he's going to prank him…damn…rain's too hard…"

"I'd noticed," Peter commented icily, drawing his scarf tighter around his neck. "Can we _please_ go back now?"

"No, no, just a bit…" James broke off, his eyes widening. "Holy _hell_!"

"What? What is it?" Peter jumped and turned back to James, whose eyes were practically glued to the Scope.

"They…Sirius…" James's mouth opened and shut.

"_What_?" Growing impatient, Peter snatched the Scope off of James and peered into it. "What? I don't see anything! They're just standing there!"

"What?! Give me that!" James snatched the ball back and peered into it. "I…I swear…" he muttered faintly, "I swear they were just kissing one another."

"Are you mad?" Peter asked conversationally, in the same way that a person might ask 'have you had enough to eat?'

"No! Seriously!" James rubbed the ball and peered into it again. "I wasn't imagining things, I promise you."

"Of course, James."

"You don't believe me!" James stuffed the Spying Scope back in his pocket and glared accusingly at Peter.

"No, I don't. Now I'm going back to school, ok? I'm wet and cold."

"Hey! Wait!"

AaAaAaAa

The steady ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound in Remus's office. His cloak hung over the back of an armchair, still faintly damp and musty smelling, his shoes had been placed carefully, neatly in front of the fire to dry and his books were neatly arranged on the desk, completely untouched.

Remus was sitting in the armchair, his chin in his hands, staring into the fire. It was late; everyone else in the school was in bed and asleep. He alone sat up, worrying as the wind moaned outside and the flames in the grate flickered teasingly, their dance sending shadows skittering around the walls.

_I'm his teacher_.

Remus closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. Sirius was his student – what had he been _thinking_ this afternoon? Kissing a student was bad enough, but kissing _Sirius Black_ was ten times worse. The boy was a pure blood, Remus was a werewolf; Sirius was a brash, loud, mischief making eighteen year old, he was a quiet, sober, reserved nineteen year old. It was impossible, besides, he wasn't attracted to Sirius, he…

_…He was_.

Remus bit his lip, hard. Lying to himself would get him nowhere. If he wanted to deal with the situation he had to face up to it. He was attracted to Sirius, fine, he could admit that. However, he _would not_ act upon it. The kiss this afternoon had been a mistake – one that had occurred through boredom and teenage hormones.

Ignoring the dry voice at the back of his mind that was commenting that Remus himself was still technically a teenager and that a whole twelve months _obviously_ made him a much more worldly and mature person, the young teacher stood up and strode over to the window. Flinging it open, he drew deep, gulping breaths of the cool, damp night air, letting it wash over his face as the wind blew in, rustling the various pieces of parchment scattered around the room and teasing his hair.

Resting his folded arms on the windowsill, Remus leant out as far as he could, simply enjoying the smell of fresh air and wet earth. The wind was still blowing, but not as strongly, and the rain had eased away until only the occasional droplet fell. Behind him, the room was painted parchment gold by the light of the fire, but in front of him, the air was velvet black and mysterious and growing crisply colder by the minute.

As he rested there, poised between two worlds, the wind carried a faint noise down to him, and he blinked, startled.

A soft, rippling tune was soaring through the night, faint but clear, its notes ringing like a bell in the windblown silence. It sounded for all the world as though someone was standing on top of the tower, playing, unconscious of the world spread out below them and anyone who might be listening.

Not really bothering to think about his actions, Remus grabbed his cloak and crept out of his office, climbing the spiral staircase on silent feet. His breath was faintly beginning to mist in front of him by the time he reached the top, and the music had become much louder and clearer with each step. Pausing as he reached the top, he hesitated, one hand outstretched to push aside the heavy oak door and discover who it was that was up on the tower top at this time of night.

As he hesitated, the tune changed, slowing. It became deeper and more sombre, a cascade of notes that somehow seemed to imply bitter sweetness. Remus thought he recognised the tune, but couldn't place it.

Gently, so as not to disturb the musician, he pushed open the door, peering around it.

A slim figure was silhouetted against the night sky, swaying gently in time to the movement of the music and the draw of the bow over what was clearly a violin. Their back was to Remus, and he couldn't make out any distinguishing features in the darkness. He saw the figure shift slightly, its head cocked at a precise angle as its fingers caressed the strings, producing an achingly sad piece, each note seeming to linger, even as the next was being played.

Remus hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to intrude upon this clearly private moment and demand the student return to its dormitory, or whether he should simply leave.

The next movement decided him as the music became flowing, gentle, less mournful but still sad and the violinist began to hum softly, a beautiful, wordless song. Still swaying, the draw of the bow became increasingly rapid, the two sounds of violin and voice floating up into the night air in perfect, painful harmony.

Quietly, Remus crept back down the spiral stairs.

And up on top of the tower, Sirius played on, oblivious.

To Be Continued… 

**CB:** The next bit will probably be a little smutty. Ye be warned.


	5. Chapter Five

**CB:** Huge hugs to:

Dawn Aurilain, Roz, Black Crystall Draygon, cindered-hope, Johnny-Depp-luv, empath89, yaoi-is-gay-13, KeyvieSnape, Blinkelf, TrinityTheSheDevil, Pazza, Lhune, sbxrl4eva, The Fallen Caryatid, Wyall Jared, Anon, Shadow Cat17, juxtaposed, Lyth Taeraneth, Poicale, Lover not a fighter, Obviously Oblivious, Lunaris, Flame Solo, XxDecadencexX, alana chantelune, Dragon Pearl1, Queen of the Paperclips, the-only-innocent, SiriusMoonPuppy, Naitriab, Avain, LBx, YukiDragon, Plushii, XxMercuryTearsxX, Cornelius Terrible, shadowbird, Titou Moony, LuminescentWings0127 and JuliTina.

Also, a huge amount of thanks to Nuria for being an amazing 'plot beta'. Our thrashings out of the finer points of this thing really helped me, so thanks!

'The aim of education should be to teach us rather how to think, than what to think – 

_Rather to improve our minds, so as to enable us to think for ourselves,_

Than to load the memory with thoughts of other men.'

- Bill Beattie

"You," James said accusingly as Sirius staggered back into the dormitory, hair wind-blown and tangled, "are out to seduce him, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sirius's face was the perfect picture of innocence as he casually slipped the violin case under his bed, unwilling to have James or Peter question him about it.

"Don't lie, we saw you this afternoon!" James folded his arms.

"Well, I didn't," Peter corrected, "but James insisted he saw the two of you…er…"

"Kissing!" James scowled. "Why on earth were you kissing?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sirius repeated, smoothing back his hair and reaching over to pull some pyjamas out of his school trunk. "You must have been mistaken, Jamie. I mean, if you honestly think I'd kiss _Professor Lupin_…" He pulled a face and began to unbutton his shirt. "Honestly, you need your head examined."

"Well if you didn't kiss him, and you're not out to seduce him, how on earth are you going to get him fired?" James ignored Peter's disapproving huff and began shoving his scattered schoolbooks under his bed, deliberately not looking at his best friend.

"That is none of your business, Potter. I refuse to give away trade secrets." Sirius adopted a haughty expression, even as he began to take off his trousers, and sniffed disapprovingly as James muttered something that was – no doubt – unflattering, under his breath. "Besides, if I tell you, you'll just thwart my wicked plans, and then I'll lose my fifty galleons." He smiled serenely as James cursed, louder this time, and kicked at a stray ball of crumpled parchment.

Peter frowned and said nothing as he watched the other two blithely commenting on the destruction of an honest man's career. Biting his lip, he forcibly swallowed the sharp reprimand that had been about to burst from his throat, knowing it would do no good. The two dark haired boys, he had learnt, were stubbornly independent, and whilst they wouldn't _ignore_ his protest, they wouldn't exactly listen to it either. One of the harsh facts of life was that James Potter and Sirius Black moulded the world to suit _them_.

"At the risk of sounding like a jealous husband in a cheesy 1950's movie," James was saying, pushing his glasses impatiently up his nose, "just where were you this evening?"

Sirius shrugged evasively, clambering into his bed and pulling the thick duvet up to his chin. "Nowhere interesting."

"You were with Lupin, weren't you!" Not a question, merely an accusation.

"No." Sirius smiled, safe in the knowledge that, for once, he was telling the truth.

"Se-ear…"

"Ja-ames…"

James huffed and jumped into his own bed, sticking his tongue out childishly at Sirius. "Fine, be that way, Black, but just remember, I'll be watching you…" He grinned, a sinister light in his eyes as Sirius mock-shivered, before his bed curtains were drawn shut with a decisive swish. A moment later, Peter, too, was in bed, and the candles in the dormitory had been blown out, sending the room into soft darkness.

Sirius lay on his back breathing slowly, evenly through his mouth. From far away, muffled through thick stone, he could hear the sound of other Gryffindors still in the common room. The wind whispered softly outside the window and he rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, a drowsy haze already beginning to creep over him.

_I wish I had time to do that more often,_ he thought, remembering the music the violin had created as he had stood on top of the tower. _It's not often I just get time to myself_. He smiled, then, knowing he wasn't really a solitary creature – far from it, in fact – but that sometimes he _did_ simply enjoy the peace and quiet when James and Peter were not around. When he could simply _be_.

_A lone wolf_, he thought with a touch of irony, sighing contentedly as he wiggled his toes, curling them into the mattress. _I wonder if it's a throwback to my traumatised childhood_. He snorted quietly, and heard an answering snore from James's side of the room. _Must be_, he decided, rolling over onto his back again, his thoughts jumping. _Wonder what happened to Andromeda, in the end._ He shivered, burying still further under the covers as he remembered the day his cousin had walked out – the shrieks as his mother burnt her name off the family tree, curses colouring the air. _I think I'd rather face a thousand detentions than see that happening to me._

In the bed across from him, Peter began to snore and the soft rhythmic sound slowly began to lull him to sleep.

AaAaAaAa

There were several things in life that Severus Snape hated. He hated the smell of freshly cut grass (it sent him into a fit of sneezing); the taste of sausages; having to dissect small creatures, sometimes, for potions and he hated school robes.

He also hated Sirius Black.

It wasn't just one aspect of the other boy – he hated everything about him. He hated the way Sirius always achieved top marks in everything, without even trying; became infuriated because Sirius caused so much trouble and _still_ escaped without any consequences. He hated his personality, his looks, and he hated the fact that in many ways, their characters were _so similar_. Sirius Black, Snape often reflected, was like another, more handsome version of himself.

And he hated that most of all.

At the moment, Sirius was sitting at the desk in front of Snape's, his head bowed over his work, quill scratching industriously against parchment. Next to him, Potter was staring blankly out of the window, chin propped on his hand, brown eyes glazed with boredom. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape could see Lily Evans frowning disapprovingly at the two boys, and Peter Pettigrew gazing worriedly at McGonagall, who was writing notes on the blackboard, dictating as she did so.

Sirius jumped as she tapped the board to emphasise a point, and hurriedly stuffed the parchment he had been writing on in his pocket. Snape frowned – this was not typical Black behaviour. Normally, the arrogant boy would simply ignore the professor completely, even if he was planning something disruptive.

He was up to something.

Snape narrowed his eyes, his expression grim. Well, whatever it was, he was sure the resulting punishment would do little to deter Black or his cronies – in fact, Severus had long suspected it actually _encouraged_ them.

He remembered the first time he had met Sirius.

He'd been eleven – Hogwarts was becoming an exciting reality, and his mother had taken him to Diagon Alley, intent on purchasing his school robes early. They'd met the Blacks down a side alley, away from the bustle of the main street. Mr Black had been a tall, commanding figure, his quiet nature at odds with his severe face. Mrs Black had been a short, slender woman, her face pretty in a sharp, angular way.

His mother had paused, smiled, and begun to talk to them – a normal enough occurrence and he had ignored the conversation with a child's disinterest until he had heard the words 'Hogwarts' and 'my son'.

Turning back from his study of the brickwork to his left, he had caught sight of a pale, slender boy standing silently behind the Blacks. A sulky expression was settled across his pale, aristocratic features, but Snape thought he was probably the prettiest eleven year old he had ever seen. The boy had sneered at him, one dark, swooping eyebrow raised in an expression of disdain, and despite his handsome face, Severus knew he wouldn't like the boy at all.

"Sirius," Mrs Black had said, gripping her son's shoulder, "Severus will be going to Hogwarts too. Make sure you are friends with him when you're in Slytherin."

_When,_ not, _if_.

Sirius had scowled, pushing his already long hair away from his face. Not replying, he turned away from his parents, fingernails scratching the dirty bricks under his hand as he stared bored, down the alley.

Later, the two families met again in Madame Malkin's, and this time Sirius smiled at him. It wasn't a particularly nice smile, and Snape realised with a sinking feeling that whatever Sirius was about to do, it was likely that the blame would land squarely on his shoulders.

He was still tensed when the Dungbombs went off.

Thinking on the incident, he couldn't remember much, just the shouting and coughing as the smell and the smoke drove people towards the door, hands pressed over their noses and mouths. Mrs Black had shouted at Sirius, her voice rising in a shriek that made people turn their heads, pausing to stare. The most vivid piece of memory, though, was the way Sirius had simply stared up at her, grey eyes burningly cold in his face, wearing an expression that, to most, would have been unreadable. Severus, however, could quite easily understand what was flickering behind that stony façade.

It was defiance.

AaAaAaAa

"Advance and parry…thrust…lunge…no, no, no! What do you think you're doing, boy? I'm running a fencing class, not a knitting club! If you can't use your blade properly, you can get out of my classroom right now!"

_Sirius sighed and decided not to point out that the 'classroom' was actually the huge hall of the Black's summerhouse. Hammington would probably box his ears – he'd been told to use 'any method he wanted' by Mrs Black – then make him repeat the exercise anyway._

_"As a Black, you will be expected to learn all the traditional pastimes of this family," his mother had said, her grey eyes hard over the breakfast table some three weeks ago. "I've hired you a fencing instructor." She sipped her tea, before setting the cup down on the delicate porcelain saucer with a decisive click. "It's a noble sport and one that I'm sure you'll warm to with your…violent tendencies."_

_"But I don't want –"_

_"You're instructor will be here in half an hour." She had cut him off deliberately. "I suggest you go and get changed."_

_Which was why he was standing here, watching Hammington (and wasn't _that_ just the most ridiculous name he's ever heard?) demonstrate the same movement he had not three minutes ago._

_"En garde," Hammington snapped, and he leapt to the defensive position, muscles obeying without his brain even absorbing the words. "Good, Black, you're getting better. Your reaction time's much quicker." He nodded, almost approvingly and Sirius felt himself flush with pleasure. "Another couple of weeks and you might be ready to be pitted against someone else."_

_"Really?"_

Hammington nodded again. "Yes, I have another pupil, just about your age, you've heard of him – of course you have." He shook his head but didn't comment further, tapping the tip of his foil lightly against the polished wood floor. "Come on now. Advance! Parry! Thrust! Lunge!"

AaAaAaAa

A traditional education – that was what his mother had wanted him to have. Sirius frowned as he doodled on yet another scrap piece of parchment. The snobbery implicated in that one sentence alone was enough to set his flesh crawling – yet the aristocratic grooming was part of him – _was_ him – in a perverse kind of way. The elegant table manners; the polite conversation and witty anecdotes; the unthinking acceptance of being waited on hand and foot – all part of him.

He sighed and scratched another little stick figure onto the parchment.

And yet…he actually _liked_ being a snob. He enjoyed the social attention and the delicate spun beauty of the upper class world. His fencing lessons had been but a part of the advantage he was given in life. He could do anything he wanted and not have to face the consequences.

"_Sirius Black_!"

Sirius jumped and looked up from his doodle-covered piece of parchment. Professor McGonagall was standing in front of his desk, hands on hips, her nostrils flaring as she stared at him, fury written across her face.

"That is the _third_ time I have had to call your name, now would you be so kind as to _pay attention_! Or am I going to have to keep you in this evening to copy down everything you appear to have missed in today's lesson?" She tapped her foot.

"Sorry, I'll pay attention."

James waited until she had stalked away, before nudging him in the ribs. "Thinking of a certain someone?" he hissed, eyes gleaming mockingly behind his glasses.

"Yeah, you," Sirius mouthed back, sarcastically.

"Not darling Professor Luuuupin then?" James pouted his lips and made quiet kissing noises as McGonagall turned her attention back to the blackboard.

To Sirius's right, Peter frowned.

"What, favour Lupin over you, Jamie? Never!" Sirius blew him a kiss and heard Lily giggle quietly, her red head bending hurriedly over her work as McGonagall looked up, sharply.

"One more word out of you, Potter, and I'll make _you_ stay behind as well."

James scowled, but shut up.

Sirius sighed and glanced at the hourglass measuring the time left until the lesson ended. Five more minutes. Five minutes and he had Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He grinned and bent over his scrap of parchment again.

AaAaAaAa

Remus took a deep breath, his hand on the doorknob.

_You're already five minutes late,_ he reminded himself_, just go in, will you_?

Through the door he could hear the babble of voices as the students passed the time, waiting for their professor to show up. A girl shrieked then fell silent to a chorus of 'shush!' and a boy laughed. There was the thump of a desk being moved and then, over the din, Remus heard Sirius's voice, clear through the thick wood.

"Shut up, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

This was met with several good-natured jeers and the rough sound of James Potter's laugh.

Enough was enough, he had to go in.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling as though this was his first time teaching a class, Remus pushed open the door.

Immediately the room fell silent, and he smiled as he pushed his battered briefcase onto the desk. "Good afternoon, everyone. Sorry I'm late, I had to speak to Professor Dumbledore about something." Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his briefcase, he undid the clasps with steady fingers. "If you would all open your textbooks to page ninety three, we will begin to cover dark creatures today." Only when he heard the sound of rustling pages did he dare to open his eyes.

Sirius was sitting right at the very front, grey eyes fixed on his face. Remus met his gaze and flushed, before looking away.

"Today's topic is vampires," he continued, picking up a piece of chalk and beginning to write on the board. "Can anybody tell me –_without _looking at the book – one of the most common places we can find one?"

"The Slytherin common room!" someone shouted, earning a gale of laughter from the rest of the class.

Remus smiled at the board, unwilling to show his own amusement. "No, I'm afraid your fellow students don't harbour vampires. Anyone else like to try?"

"In small villages, usually on the edge of moors, and most often in colder countries." The low voice cut through the quiet hum of conversation that had broken out after the initial comment, making the room fall silent.

Remus froze, swallowed, then turned around, an approving smile plastered on his face, the chalk still raised – almost defensively. "Very good, Mr Black. Five points to Gryffindor."

Sirius smiled, eyes lazy under lowered lashes, and Remus had to tell himself firmly that it was _not_ a 'come hither' type of look. "Thank you, Professor Lupin." Tucking his hair behind his ear, Sirius leant back in his seat, tie loose. Behind him, James was shaking his head, an expression of resignation gracing his features and Remus, darting a glance at the rest of the class, saw surprise written across several faces.

"Right." The young teacher cleared his throat and turned back to the blackboard. "Let's start with the survival properties, shall we? A vampire needs blood to survive. It does _not_, however, require human blood, neither is it destroyed in sunlight. A vampire can, in fact, survive a substantial amount of natural light before sustaining even minor burns. It does, however, usually hunt at night because humans and other creatures are more vulnerable after sundown."

One of the girls at the back of the class raised her hand, looking faintly embarrassed. "Excuse me, Professor Lupin, but _why_ are we more vulnerable when it's dark? Surely it shouldn't make a difference whether it's light or not…"

"You'd think so," Remus replied, smiling, "but our eyesight is not as good, and we tend to become more nervous when it's dark. Vampires are attracted to fear, so our discomfort sends out a signal to them."

In front of him Sirius shifted, bored and picked up his quill.

"That leads me on nicely to ways of combating a vampire." Remus turned back to the blackboard. "Firstly, it is important _not_ to show fear. You show fear and you show your weakness. A vampire will pick up on that immediately and see it as an open signal to attack. Secondly, you _must_ remember that whilst vampires possess no magical power themselves, they are still susceptible to spells, just like muggles. Your best chance if you meet a vampire is to have your wand ready. At the risk of sounding like an old friend of mine, _constant vigilance_ is essential, particularly when dealing with dark creatures."

He paused chalk coming to a halt as he turned around again, the lesson flowing more easily now as he noted – with some relief – that Sirius was sitting quietly, not even meeting his eyes. "A simple stunning charm will usually knock them out," he continued, smiling as he watched the class scribble on pieces of parchment, "or…" he paused as Sirius looked up.

He did not look bored, as Remus had –stupidly – assumed. Rather, he was smirking. It was the kind of smirk that said 'I know something you don't, but you're going to find out what that something is very soon'. Remus swallowed, gaze locked with Sirius's. "Yes…anyway, a stunning charm," he continued, eyes slightly wide. "Once they're…ah…stunned, it's usually a good idea to finish them off immediately."

Sirius blinked, slowly, eyelashes dark smudges against the curve of his cheekbones.

Remus swallowed. Hard.

"Usually, tying them up is the, er, best way to disable them completely. That way, they can't attack or escape if they come around to early." One or two of the students looked at him, curiously, and he forced himself to look away from Sirius and up towards the back of the classroom. "The idea of a stake through the heart is not a bad one," he continued, rather desperately, aware of Sirius watching him. "In fact, there's a lot of merit to it. However, most of us don't tend to carry stakes around in our pockets."

This prompted quiet titters from the class, and Remus sighed, relieved, as he continued to look towards the back. "You're best hope, therefore, would be to immediately report the vampire to the ministry. However, I'm not here to teach you how to contact them, I'm here to teach you what to do if something goes wrong." Remus cleared his throat, ready to continue and made the mistake of glancing back towards the front of the class.

Sirius was still watching him, running his quill absent-mindedly over his lower lip.

Remus felt the breath leave his lungs and his face begin to flush as the student held his gaze, a small, challenging smile curling the corner of his lip. The silence in the classroom lengthened, until Lily coughed politely, shattering the moment abruptly.

"Yes, anyway…" Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius again and looked at Peter, who was sitting next to James. "The easiest way is to…ah…choke it." He waited for the murmurs of disgust to die down before continuing, "It's easiest if you know the correct way to go about it. If you kill a vampire, the ministry certainly won't charge you, so I'm allowed to teach you this – purely in self-defence, of course. I need a helper, Mr P – " He was half pointing towards Peter, when Sirius stood up, abruptly.

"Allow me, Professor." Eyes full of mischief, he faced Remus. "I'm sure it's easier for me to do it than Peter – I look more vampire-ish, don't you think?"

"No at all." Remus licked his lips, nervously. "Very well, thank you for volunteering, Mr Black."

"Where do you want me to stand?" Sirius was still staring at him, back to the class, one eyebrow raised.

"Right, er, there." Gripping the robe-covered shoulders, Remus manoeuvred the taller boy until he was standing facing towards the front, back straight, hair falling over his shoulders. Absently Remus realised that Sirius _should_ have had his ridiculously long hair tied back, but decided against bringing it up. He also realised that Sirius was taller than him, and in order to demonstrate the choking position, he was going to have to reach over, which would bring him a lot closer to the boy than he had anticipated.

"Make sure your fingers are tensed," his voice was surprisingly steady. "If they're lax, you won't be able to dig them in – not to put too fine a point on it." Carefully he reached forwards, grasping Sirius's hair in one hand and pushing it over the student's shoulder. "Sorry, Mr Black, but your hair is going to get in the way otherwise," he murmured into Sirius's ear, and was surprised when Sirius shivered slightly.

"That's ok, Professor." Not more than a murmur, for his ears alone, and Remus could have sworn that Sirius was smiling down at the floor.

"Place your fingers on either side of the windpipe…" And here it was, he was going to have to touch Sirius.

Rainwater and the feel of a warm, wet mouth against his own… 

Remus drew his breath in sharply, fingers sliding carefully, hesitantly across smooth, warm skin. Sirius tilted his head back slightly, and the shocked teacher realised he could feel tendons shifting, even as he moved closer, thumbs coming to rest either side of his pupil's windpipe. Carefully, he took a step forwards, raising himself up slightly onto the balls of his feet so that he could see clearly.

"Once your hands are in this position," he continued, trying to ignore the way he was pressed against Sirius's back and the feel of a strong pulse fluttering under his fingers, "you simply dig your thumbs in. it effectively cuts off the air supply and, more importantly, the Vampire's ability to drink blood. As long as you maintain that pressure, no matter how hard the creature struggles, it cannot swallow, and therefore consume your blood." He smiled, weakly at the class and shivered as he felt Sirius hum, low in his throat.

Dragging his hands away, he stepped back and nodded. "Thank you, Mr Black, you can sit down now."

Sirius turned and smiled at him. "Not a problem, Professor." Then, to Remus's shock, he stepped nearer, expression intent. "Can I speak to you after class?" His voice was low, husky, intended for nobody else's ears.

"No, I don't think –" Remus began, already anticipating trouble.

"I'll see you this evening, then," Sirius licked his lips, then turned and sauntered back to his seat, hips swaying slightly in a manner that made Remus's mouth turn dry.

He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the lesson.

AaAaAaAa

"Who," said James as he dug through Sirius's school bag in a vain attempt to find a Transfiguration textbook, "is 'RL'?"

"Hmm?" Sirius, sprawled casually in one of the Gryffindor armchairs, looked up from his book.

"'RL'." James straightened and brandished a crumpled piece of parchment – the same one Sirius had been doodling on in McGonagall's lesson. "Is there some girl that we don't know about, Sear?"

"Nope." Sirius turned his attention back to his book.

"Then who is it?"

"Nobody you need to worry your messy head over, Potter." Sirius turned a page and glanced casually at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"I think I should." James peered at the parchment, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did so. "You've written their initials all over this thing. See?" He brandished it at Peter, who simply waved him away irritably. "RL in the corner, RL in the middle of the page, RL with a nice little star design around it…" James broke off and squinted closer. "Hey, those are actually rather good stars, if I do say so myself, Sirius." He sniffed disapprovingly as his friend paid no attention to him. "Must be a pretty nice girl," he muttered.

"It's not a girl," Sirius said blandly, shutting the book with a snap.

"Then _who is it_?" James cried, exasperated.

Sirius shrugged and stretched. "As I said, no one you need to concern yourself over." Striding across the room he grabbed the parchment and stuffed it back into the bag. "Now stop digging through my stuff, will you?"

"Ok, ok! I was only looking for a textbook." James sighed and flopped down in the vacant chair next to Peter. "You might try telling us things occasionally, Sear."

"I'm engaged to Snape."

"Eurgh, _Sirius_, I had just _eaten_!"

"You said to tell you something," Sirius grinned.

"I meant something that was true and wouldn't involve me throwing up my dinner," James complained, as Peter shook his head in disgust and turned back to his sketchbook. Rolling his eyes, the dark haired boy propped his feet up on the table. "And where are you off to at this hour, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Is it to meet this 'RL'?" James grinned and fluttered his eyelashes. "Oooh, having a secret affair, Siri, how _dashing_."

"Shut it before I shut it for you," Sirius grumbled, good naturedly, making for the portrait hole.

"Yeah, whatever Romeo," James waved a hand after him. "Fly! Fly to thy Juliet!" He laughed as Sirius's string of obscenities was cut off by the click of the portrait hole and the loud admonitions of the Fat Lady.

"So, where do you think he's _really_ off to?" Peter asked, putting his pencil down.

"No idea, mate, but as fellow mischief makers, it is our sworn duty to follow him." James leapt to his feet, one hand outstretched, pointing. "To the mischief machine, my good chum!"

"You mean the invisibility cloak?"

"…Yeah."

Peter sighed. "I should never have let you watch television," he said, mournfully.

AaAaAaAa

Remus was quietly marking essays in his office when the knock at the door sounded. Sighing, he put his quill down and rubbed his forehead, aware of the headache building in his temples.

"Yes, come in."

Having expected to see McGonagall or Flitwick, it came as something of a shock when Sirius pushed open the door, then shut it swiftly behind himself, leaning against it with crossed arms. His expression was calm, if slightly defiant, and his hair was still loose, falling around his face and over his shoulders. His school robe had been abandoned, as had his tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing the pale column of his throat.

"What do you want, Sirius?" Remus carefully sorted the essays into a pile, refusing to look at the student after that first, stunned glance. "If it's more help with schoolwork, I'm afraid I'm terribly busy at the moment, so you'll have to come back another time."

"It's not that." Sirius was still leaning against the door, watching him, gaze heavy.

"Then what is it?" Standing up, Remus picked up a book from his desk and moved across to the bookshelf. He had just put it back in its correct place when a warm hand covered his own, pressing it against the leather spine, and an arm wrapped around his waist.

"I came to see you." Sirius' lips were soft against the nape of his neck, his body warm at Remus's back, and, the werewolf realised as his stomach jumped, his hair was brushing his cheek. "I said I would, didn't I? I thought you could use the company."

Remus shivered as hot breath blew over his skin. "We can't do this, Sirius. Saturday was a stupid mistake."

"Was it?" The smile in Sirius's voice was evident as the arm wrapped around Remus's waist tightened, the hand sliding spread-fingered across the werewolf's hip. "You kissed me back, Professor, deny it all you want, but your first reaction was your most honest."

Remus was frozen, torn between wanting to push Sirius away and pull him closer. '_I must look ridiculous_,' he thought, _'standing here like this – one hand in the air like an idiot. I'm an adult, I should have control of the situation_.' Behind him, Sirius sighed, pressing closer, mouth placing a gentle kiss against the skin of the werewolf's neck.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Sirius, this is a mistake." Remus drew a deep breath as the kisses trailed slowly upwards. "I'm your teacher, stop right now."

"No." Sirius's other hand dropped, to slide across Remus's belly as he planted a final kiss, then swung Remus around to face him. "Couldn't stop thinking about you," he repeated.

"Be that as it may…" Remus began, and was cut off as Sirius kissed him.

Heat flared in his body, pooling low in his stomach as Sirius moaned, shifting closer. Rough-gentle fingers combed through his hair and Remus found his eyes had closed. A warm tongue played along the seam of his lips, begging for entrance and, without thinking, he opened his mouth. His hands, which had been resting loosely at his sides, flew up, cupping the sides of Sirius's face as teeth gently nibbled his lower lip. The kiss was soft, delicate, almost pleading, and it was certainly not something Remus would have expected from the likes of Sirius Black.

There was a sigh – was it him or Sirius? He wondered dizzily – and he found himself pushed back against the bookcase, the weight of Sirius's body driving the air from his lungs as the kiss turned into something fiercer, more possessive. Tongues tangled and Sirius whimpered into his mouth as Remus gripped the other man's head, pulling him sharply, tugging him closer.

Fire raced through Remus's veins at the whimper and he growled, teeth finding and twisting Sirius's lower lip, not gentle – not any more. If he had expected his student to yelp in surprise and back away, perhaps suitable chastened, he would have been wrong. Sirius simply made a noise, low in his throat, half groan, half something purely animalistic, and pressed closer still, one arm wrapping around Remus's neck as his leg shifted, moving until he was practically climbing Remus, the other hand buried in the front of the teacher's soft black robe.

Remus broke away from the kiss, panting harshly. "And that, Mr Black, is why you are leaving. _Now_."

"I'm not leaving." Sirius' eyes were glittering, desire darkening them as he stared at Remus, licking his lips.

Remus growled and shoved him backwards, control barely there and lust confusing his normally ordered mind. He could, however, hang onto one thought. "I am your _teacher_. When they find out…"

"_If,_" Sirius corrected him, jumping up to perch on the edge of the desk, knees apart as he held out his arms. "If they find out, Remus. And they're not going to." His expression was the one he had worn during class, Remus realised, and it was, without a doubt, an invitation.

"You're crazy, Black." The whisper was harsh, and Sirius threw back his head, laughing, arms still outstretched.

"Of course I am." He smiled and leant back a little. "Crazy as they come."

"Crazy…" But Remus had taken a step forwards, then another and Sirius grabbed his hands tugging him closer until he was wedged between trouser-clad legs, lips bare centimetres from the other's.

"So, Remus, changed your mind?" Sirius's breath was coming in short, sharp pants as he shifted on the edge of the desk, wrapping his legs around Remus, hands gripping the teacher's shoulders.

"No." Remus's eyes were blazing as he stared at Sirius. "You're trouble, Black, everyone knows that. What do you want from me? What could I possibly have that you _need_?" He snarled, lips inching nearer, until he was leaning fully against Sirius, half pressing him back into the desk. "Why me?"

And Sirius laughed, pulling him that final few centimetres.

Papers scattered everywhere, falling from the desk like a startled flock of birds as Sirius tumbled backwards onto the table, tugging Remus with him. The inkpot fell off of its stand, crashing to the floor with the tinkling sound of broken glass and the pile of books that had been perched precariously on one end toppled over with a dull thud, their leather covers slapping against the stone floor.

Remus saw none of this – heard nothing except the low moan that bubbled from between Sirius' lips. The taller boy was writhing beneath him, keening into his mouth as Remus trailed careful fingers down the side of his neck and across the swoop of his collarbone.

"Oh…oh gods…" Sirius had torn his mouth away from Remus's, pulling back so that he could look up into the teacher's face. Remus was half lying on him, and through the layer of clothing, he could feel the tempting brush of another body, hard length rubbing against hard length. He had one brief moment to wonder where the quiet, shy teacher he had known had gone, before Remus's lips descended on his throat, teeth gently scraping skin before there was the sensation of wet, open-mouthed kisses.

_'Meant for this to be the other way around…_' Sirius thought dizzily as he felt slender fingers scrabble at his shirt for a moment before tearing open the buttons. A wet tongue trailed across the hollow of his throat as Remus undid the last part of his shirt, half pushing it off of his shoulder. _'Who…oh…who knew he would be this good_?' He moaned, unashamedly, and bucked his hips as Remus paused, worrying a nipple.

The teacher whimpered, distracted by Sirius's reaction, and shifted back up for another kiss.

_'Shouldn't be doing this…_' Remus thought, even as Sirius hissed, writhing against him, his taller body sprawled across the desk. _'Shouldn't be…_' He sighed as Sirius' legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, pressing him closer. _'But…it's Sirius…_' This last thought with a kind of awe and he paused, drawing back to look at his student.

Flushed, his hair pooling on the desk, his white shirt half hanging off and his erection pressing against his trousers, Sirius looked like the epitome of sex. Writhing, his hands were already reaching out again for Remus, hungry for contact. As he was pulled close, Remus was surprised to feel quick, clever fingers pushing his robe off of his shoulders and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Underneath him, Sirius moaned; a low, hungry sound as his hands discovered warm skin…

It took Remus a moment to realise someone was pounding on the door, and yet another moment to place the voice that was inquiring politely through the thick wood, to be that of little Professor Flitwick. Shoving Sirius away abruptly, he ignored the taller man's moan of protest and began frantically buttoning his shirt and straightening his robes. Indicating for Sirius to do the same, he cleared his throat and glanced quickly at his reflection in the office window.

His hair and clothing were rumpled and his face was flushed, but apart from that, nothing appeared too suspect. Sirius, on the other hand, was still fighting with his shirt, and Remus jumped as Flitwick knocked again.

"Remus, are you alright?"

"Yes…yes…just a minute!" Raking a hand through his hair, Remus shot one last glance to make sure Sirius looked at least marginally presentable, and flung open the door.

"Oh!" Flitwick beamed up at him. "Awfully sorry to disturb you, Remus, but I heard the most awful crash coming from your office, followed by the most horrific sounds and I wondered whether you were injured or something."

"Ah, no." Remus smiled, still slightly dazed. "Mr Black and I were just, um, sorting out a Boggart that had got itself trapped in my old packing case. Since Sirius said he needed the practice, I agreed to let him help me get rid of it."

"I see, I see." Flitwick peered around Remus, eyes wide. "Made an awful mess, didn't it?"

"What? Oh, yes. That. Well, er…"

"I'm afraid of whirlwinds," Sirius broke in, smoothing his hair and tucking it behind his ears. "Professor Lupin's office suffered because of it." He grinned, tightly.

"Well, sorry to disturb you then, Professor." Flitwick squeaked. "I'll leave you to it, eh?"

"Actually," Remus broke in quickly, "We had finished. Would you mind escorting Mr Black back to his dormitory, Professor? I don't want him to get into trouble on my account."

"But – " Sirius began, then sighed. "Oh, fine."

AaAaAaAa

Once Flitwick had deposited him in front of the Fat Lady, Sirius sank to the floor, resting his chin on his knees.

He hadn't meant for the situation to get so out of hand. He'd only meant to irritate Lupin a little, yet when he'd kissed him… he shivered. And that hadn't been all, either. When he'd stood at the front of the class, he'd been _burning_ – he'd _wanted_ the teacher to touch him. Then there was the parchment…

'What the hell's wrong with me?' he wondered. 'I didn't feel like this yesterday. Hell, I didn't feel like this, this morning!' He scowled, and the Fat Lady coughed, politely. 

"Are you going in or not, dear?" She enquired.

Shrugging, Sirius climbed to his feet, gave the password and pushed open the portrait door. As he shut it, his gaze met the accusing glare of James Potter, who was sitting in an armchair, clearly waiting for him. In one hand he had held the invisibility cloak, in the other, a crumpled piece of parchment. Peter was standing behind James, his expression half guilty, half angry, as he stared at the floor.

"You," James said quietly, "have a lot of explaining to do."

**To Be Continued…  
CB:** And once again, my apologies for waiting so long for this chapter. I've been so drowned in work recently, this is the first opportunity I've had to write.


	6. Chapter Six

**CB:** Hugs and kisses to…

Titou Moony, cindered-hope, Lyth Taeraneth, HappyDappyDrunk, empath89, JW Grey, Avain, YukiDragon, LunasStar, Anon, Rikkali, Queen of the Paperclips, KyvieSnape, Sorceress MooNBlaDeR, Rachel, alana chantelune, Dawn Aurilain, delfin, mysid, Shadow Cat17, Lover not a fighter, Hell's Angel – Heaven's Demon, Quick-fic, XxDecadencexX, The all mighty and powerfulM, Blinkelf, Plushii, Tama-Ayanami, Lunaris, korosu, xParanoidAndroidx, LBx, Eden, Wesleigh, remusfan, bkwrmbenny, Eizoku, Dragon Pearl1, Poicale, Carapheoinix, The Wishmasters, Squishy Gamgee.

A MASSIVE thank you to **flight514** who drew me the most amazing fanart of Sirius and Remus meeting back in Chapter One. It can be found here: 

_'There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love._'

- **Christopher Morley**

"Sirius," James's voice was cold as he looked down at the parchment, his eyes following the words across the page. "Perhaps no one thought to inform you that you are betraying your family's heritage. I have heard all about your acquaintance with those degenerate muggle-loving freaks and it has got to stop. Your Head of House should have already informed you that to associate with _those_ types will only bring shame to your family…" The dark haired boy paused in his reading and looked up at his friend, who was still standing, one hand on the portrait frame, face pale. "If you had been placed in Slytherin, as is your right," he continued, looking back down, "none f this would have happened. (Your father and I are still most displeased about _that_ particular issue). I only hope that Regulus does not turn out to be the disappointment you have become."

"Stop…" Sirius's voice was a harsh whisper – the faintest breath of a scream colouring it. "Stop, James…"

"We will expect you home for the Christmas Holidays and ask that you do not bring any of your acquaintances with you. The Malfoy's have been kind enough to offer to look after you whilst your father and I visit relatives for three days in Paris. Apparently Lucius Malfoy has taken quite a shine to you – both your father and I heartily approve of this friendship and wish to encourage it in every way possible."

James looked up from his reading, brown eyes hard behind his glasses. "An interesting missive, don't you think, Sirius? How strange that you didn't mention it to us. Funnily, I thought that _friends_ shared their problems." He nodded at Peter, who with shaking hands produced another piece of parchment. "Read it to him, Pete."

"Sirius," Peter began, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "Having seen the spectacle you have made of yourself over the past year at school, I was extremely pleased to hear from Ariadne Malfoy how polite you were during your visit. It appears that you are, despite opposing forces, becoming the heir your father and I wish you to be. Lucius, too, when he met us at the opera, commented on how incredibly adult you were. I will reiterate what I have said before – encourage this friendship, if you please. The Malfoy heir appears to have taken quite a shine to you, and I think it is in our best interests as a family if we have strong connections with one of the only other _truly_ pure families."

"Stop it…" Sirius croaked – his grip white-knuckled on the portrait post. Peter stopped, looking hesitantly first at Sirius, then at James, who had his arms folded and was leaning back in the chair.

"Why?" Sirius had never heard James sound so cruel. "You've been keeping all of these…letters…from us. Isn't it about time we had a little truth around here, Sirius? Or is lying also part of the Black code of honour?" He spat the last words out as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You know…I told you my family didn't like me being in Gryffindor," Sirius said, grey eyes large as he stared at his friend. "I told you they wrote to me…how have I been keeping things from you?"

"'Those types'?" James quoted, leaning forwards suddenly. "Is that what your family really thinks of us, Sirius? And grovelling to the Malfoy's? I never realised that _that_ was what you got up to in the holidays. No wonder Lucius looks so damn smug every time we all come back to school."

"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about…" Sirius's voice was still a whisper.

"The least you could have done was confide in us," James continued, as though he hadn't heard. "But no, when does the great Sirius _Black_ ever need to confide in anyone? Pure bloods, you're all the same – you all look down your noses at us – why bother with the little people? Well tell me, Sirius, what's so _fucking perfect_ about having no muggle in your bloodline? What's so _amazing_ about committing something that's practically incest?" He stood up, abruptly, storming over to where Sirius was standing and wrenching him away from the door by the collar of his shirt. "_You didn't tell us,_" he hissed, nose to nose with the other boy. "Are we so utterly below you that you won't even tell us how your family treat you?" he shoved Sirius away abruptly, sending him staggering into the wall. "You really are just another Black after all, aren't you?"

Sirius stared at him for a long moment, his breath coming fast, panicked. Finally, he tore his gaze away from James to look at Peter, who was watching him with a frightened yet angry expression. "You don't…you don't honestly think…" His voice was pleading as he looked back to James. How had the evening gone so very, very wrong in the space of a few short minutes? James just watched him, impassively, and it was this that finally broke Sirius's desperation, pushing him over the edge into fury. "You _do_ think I'm fucking like them, don't you? You _bastard_, Potter! You've known me seven years and yet you actually dare to stand there and accuse me of being like _them_!" He snarled, pushing away from the wall. "I am _nothing_ like my family. I'm not obsessed with bloodlines; I despise looking down on people. Just because my mother wrote me a couple of letters, suddenly you have the right to stand there and accuse me? I played whore to Malfoy a couple of times, so fucking what? Look how many people _you_ cozied up to when it got you something!"

"Sirius…" Peter's voice was wavering as he took in the furious atmosphere of the room.

"And why the _hell_ were you going through _my_ things anyway?" Striding across the room, Sirius snatched the parchment from James.

"Lupin." The name brought Sirius up short, and he stared at James, the anger leaving his body so fast it felt as though he had been punched.

"What?"

"Lupin. We wanted to know what you were up to with Lupin. We lost track of you after you'd slipped out of the common room…" James nudged the invisibility cloak with his foot, "…despite using this. So Peter suggested we look through your things to see if we could find some kind of diary or memo or _something_. Instead, we found those." His jaw worked for a couple of seconds, as though he was chewing something difficult.

"And you thought that because my mother had written me those _wonderful_ letters, the person you've known for seven years is _obviously_ somebody completely different." Sirius sniffed and folded his arms.

"You are one of them, Sirius." James's face had lost a lot of its anger as well, and something that looked strangely like sadness flickered in his eyes for a brief moment before being swept away by neutrality. "You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth."

"You can't say I'm one of them…"

"But you _are_. You're refined and elegant and far more 'educated' than either Pete or myself. It's just taken this sordid little incident to show that to me. You may be Sirius, but you are also 'Black'."

_You may be a Black, but you are also Sirius_…

Sirius jumped, the phrase flashing through his mind as he stared at James, and he struggled to place it. Oh yes, Professor Lupin. Well, how was that for irony? His friends of nearly a decade were denouncing him as a Black and his teacher of less than a month had accepted him as an individual. "You know, James," he said carefully, hiding that insight away for another time and place, "I'm surprised to hear you say that." A wary expression darted across James's face, and Sirius nearly smiled. "I think, in a way, you just don't like facing up to reality. You knew I had a pureblood family from the very beginning, but it's taken an example of pureblood mentality for you to truly understand what that means. You don't like change, do you? And you certainly don't like someone changing all your preconceptions."

"I – " James began, but Sirius cut him off ruthlessly.

"I am a pureblood, there's no doubt about it, and some of my heritage I'm _not_ proud of – but it's what I am, and you're just going to have to accept it." Not waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and stalked up towards the dormitory.

He knew that later Peter, playing the mediator, would cautiously climb the stairs, knock on the door, and insist that James really was sorry. He knew without a doubt that this whole stupid incident would be put behind them by tomorrow. He knew that James would push the 'Black' concept to the back of his mind where it wouldn't disturb any of them. He knew, however, that his friend would be on his guard for any 'pureblood behaviour' and he also knew that as much as he wanted to deny it, he was 'Sirius Black.'

So he settled onto his bed to enjoy the anger while it lasted.

Sometimes he hated being Sirius Black.

AaAaAaAa

_'Forgive me father, for I have sinned_…'

The words were, strangely, running through Remus's mind as he stared at his study wall. '_Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I nearly slept with a man, and as if that wasn't bad enough, he was my student.'_ The wall stared impassively back, not accusing or denying, and Remus sighed, turning away to begin picking up the scattered pieces of parchment and smashed inkbottle.

_'What would Dumbledore say if he could see his perfect 'mentor' now? Unless he meant a mentor in the style of the ancient Greeks – which I doubt.'_ He frowned as he tossed the last of the glass into the waste paper basket and sank down into the soft armchair in the corner of the room. _'Enough is enough. I should have stopped Sirius's flirtations a long time ago. I'm going to have to be more assertive and just tell him…no. That's it, no. And I'm just going to have to tell Dumbledore that I can't possibly spend my time looking after a deranged teenager because I have more important things to be doing._'

Sitting with his legs tucked underneath him, he craned his neck to look out of the window. Outside it was dark and he scowled. Another evening wasted – and he really needed to get those essays marked… his gaze skittered across to the stack of newly arranged pieces of parchment and he twisted his lips in a mocking grimace. _'Maybe I should just leave them until tomorrow. No, can't…_' His eyes slid back up the window in time to catch the palest hint of moonlight lurking behind the clouds. '_Stupid! You nearly forgot! A fine mess you would have been in tomorrow evening had you been wandering around the corridors. I suppose this Sirius thing has got to me more than I wanted it to_.'

Sirius was…like a disease, it seemed. Once he got under your skin, he stayed there, slowly spreading – poisoning your mind and body. Remus frowned and drummed his fingers on his knee. The student was obviously desperate for some kind of comfort and he had chosen Remus, of all people, to help him. _'He doesn't know about you,_' a tiny voice commented at the back of his mind. _'He doesn't know you're a freak. If he knew, he'd never come near you again. He's a Black, a child of pure silver and ice, sired by cold, heartless people who'd hang a werewolf's head on their wall if they got a chance. You need to stay away from him. Far away. Make him sit at the back of the classroom, make sure you're never caught in your office alone with him again…_

"I'm his teacher." The whisper was soft but clear in the warm silence of the room, and Remus looked down to see his hands had curled into fists. "I'm his teacher, I shouldn't have gone near him in the first place…I shouldn't even be thinking about him now."

He's only a year younger… 

"That's not the point!" He rubbed his eyes. "God, now I'm talking to myself as well. No, enough is enough; I'm not letting Sirius Black come anywhere near me again. I don't want to lose my job and Dumbledore's respect."

Remus stood up abruptly, closing the curtains of his study in one swift movement, blocking out the sight of the near-full moon. Turning back to his desk, he picked up the essays and a quill, trying to ignore the way his mind constantly strayed to the dangerous path of inky black hair and cool grey eyes and perfect ice cold features.

Forgive me father, for I have sinned… 

AaAaAaAa

"What," Lily said the next morning, "is going on?"

Peter shrugged, miserably, and chewed another piece of his sausage. Sirius and James were sitting next to one another talking – if barely – and occasionally making comments that were slightly more poisonous than their usual ribbing. The shorter boy had watched with a certain degree of satisfaction as they had grudgingly made up the night before, but there had either been a relapse in the time it had taken him to have a shower, or another awkward topic had risen.

"Oh, look," James's voice was dripping with innocence – his tone overly casual. "There's Professor Lupin."

Sirius stiffened nearly imperceptibly before he smiled just a touch too politely. "Yes, he looks ill this morning, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't know, I don't really _observe_ him that closely."

"Alright you two, that's _enough_." Lily had grown impatient with their sour tempers and was glaring at them, pointing her fork menacingly. "I don't know what has happened between the two of you, but I want you to get over it." She scowled as James and Sirius refused to meet her gaze, staring instead at their plates. "Just kiss and make up, will you?"

This earned the table a shocked yelp from James, who had jumped to the conclusion that she meant literally. "_What_?"

"Oh for the love of –" Lily had dropped her fork in surprise, but quickly retrieved it. "It's an _expression_, you fool." She sighed and stabbed at her bacon, ignoring the vaguely put out look James was sending her.

"I think," Peter said, staring hard at the ceiling, "that it's nearly time for lessons." He sighed and pushed his plate away, avoiding Sirius's keen gaze, and picked up his schoolbag, which had been resting under his chair. "Maybe I should sit in the middle today," he added offhandedly, as James let out a hissing breath from between gritted teeth – no doubt because Lily had just kicked him in the shins.

"Yes, probably a good idea." Sirius's voice was cool, bordering on icy as his gaze flickered sideways towards James. "Better be careful though, Pete, you wouldn't want a wicked pureblood to poison your mind." His voice was deliberately harsh – he was making a pointed jab at James.

So it _was_ still about that… Peter sighed and stood up.

"I'd be more worried about him keeping more secrets from you, Peter." James's voice was rough as well.

Oh, maybe it wasn't about the pureblood thing after all. Peter could feel a headache beginning behind his eyes. It wasn't often that he tried to read into James and Sirius' behaviour, but when he did, he found it all the more frustrating because they were simply impossible to work out. He was constantly second-guessing, and it seemed that this time was going to be no exception. It was probably, he decided, something to do with that lousy bet.

Whilst Peter was conducting his internal debate, Sirius had stood up as well and was pushing his way towards the doors out of the Great Hall. Shouldering past a gang of Slytherins, he heard James's familiar footsteps behind him but refused to turn his head. Instead, he simply pulled his dog-eared timetable out of his pocket and nearly groaned when he saw the first lesson of the day: Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Stuffing it back into his pocket, he attempted a nonchalant expression, but dropped it as he passed a mirror that commented on his 'snooty demeanour'. Somewhere in the corridor behind him, he could hear Lily and Peter talking together quietly and James's surly mutterings as he pushed against the flow of students all hurrying to their different lessons. Pausing outside the classroom, Sirius took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Professor Maple, who had been leaning over the desk, looked up in surprise. Her bobbed brown hair hung in her eyes and she pushed it back with one lean brown hand. Wiry, in her fifties and a force to be reckoned with, the Herbology teacher was one of the few members of staff at Hogwarts that allowed _no_ misbehaviour in her lessons – least of all from Sirius Black and James Potter. Tapping one fingernail against the desk – she still had dirt on her hands, Sirius noted – she raised an eyebrow.

"You're early, Mr Black."

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Sirius ignored the question and frowned when she shrugged.

"Ill. He asked me to take his class this morning."

"But –" Sirius's mouth was half open to protest that he had seen Lupin at breakfast, when he realised this statement could arouse some suspicion. Why would a student be watching his teacher?

Professor Maple raised one eyebrow, but said no more, looking past Sirius to the classroom doorway, where James, Peter, Lily and several other Gryffindors were lurking, attempting to look as well-behaved and inconspicuous as possible.

"Come in, come in," she snapped, waving a hand impatiently. "There's not point in you standing out there, is there? I can't take a lesson in a corridor." She sniffed disapprovingly as Peter, in his haste to comply, very nearly tripped over his own shoelaces. "Mr Pettigrew, kindly refrain from making a mess in the classroom, would you?" Peter flushed and mumbled an apology, scuttling up the aisle of desks to sit at the back.

Sirius sighed and wandered after him, lost in thought as he heard Professor Maple begin to discuss the forthcoming lesson with several of her favourite students – all of whom were in her own House of Ravenclaw.

_So, he's not coming…maybe he really is ill, he _didn't_ look well earlier. Then again, maybe it's an excuse; maybe he just doesn't want to have to see me._ Sirius frowned. The thought should have been a happy one – if Lupin didn't want to see him, the most likely assumption to make was that he was, in some way, finally making an impact on the teacher. Apart from an initial smugness, however, he found that to his surprise he _wasn't_ happy. Disappointed, would have been a more accurate description. _What is _wrong_ with me?_ He wondered, _he was so easy to upset – no challenge at all. Hah, those galleons are as good as mine._ He frowned again as he sat down next to Peter. _Still…it was so…interesting…to irritate him. It's going to be a shame to have to get rid of him_.

To his surprise, James sat down next to him. "So, Lupin's not here," he said abruptly.

"No." Sirius stared straight ahead, not really seeing anything.

A light punch landed on his upper arm and he turned, surprised, to James, who grinned tentatively. "I forgive you for being an arrogant secret-keeping pureblood," he said.

Sirius smiled, feeling relieved. "And I'll forgive you for being a nosy little bastard."

"Agreed." James's grin this time was much wider.

"But James?"

"Mmm?"

"Next time, can you try to refrain from attempting to follow me and also from digging through my stuff."

James ran a hand through his hair. "I make no promises I can't keep." He smiled and nudged Sirius. "Besides, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't pry into your personal life every once in a while?"

"A good one?" Sirius joked and they both grinned, giddily, at one another. It wasn't often that they fought, and when they did it hurt both of them.

"I _am_ sorry, Sear." James's voice and expression were sincere. "It's just…hell, I didn't realise things were that bad with your family. And then I began to see bits and pieces of your 'other side' that you've shown over the years, and I realised that, in some ways, I don't know you very well at all."

Sirius stared at James, hard. "Oh, I don't know, Potter. I think between you and Peter, you've made me into the kind of person I want to be, as opposed to a mother's boy like Regulus. Those…haughty moments are just my breeding and upbringing showing through." He laughed. "Still, never mind. One day I'm going to have to take you to the opera – some of the costumes are beyond belief."

He and James shared a conspiring smile. "Are the costumes really that awful?"

"Worse."

They snickered, even as Professor Maple began the class, and then settled down for a dull and uninformative lesson.

AaAaAaAa

Two days later Sirius was sprawled in an armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He made an elegant – if somewhat rumpled – picture. Ignoring the appreciative glances he was earning from several girls in a lower year, he folded his arms across his chest and glared into the flames, as though it was his willpower alone that kept the whole thing burning. He was, quite clearly, sulking.

"Never mind." James was trying to sound soothing but the effect was ruined because of the smile threatening to break over his face.

Sirius simply muttered something uncomplimentary.

"I'm sure he really _is_ ill. He's not avoiding you." James shot a rather desperate look at Peter, who shrugged. "I mean, maybe he's really sick!" He brightened. "Although if he is avoiding you…I suppose I win the bet."

"You're not helping!" Sirius snapped, sitting upright and thumping the arms of the chair with his fists. "If he's gone to Dumbledore…"

"He won't have," James said his voice calm. "What's he going to say? 'Headmaster, I nearly shagged one of my students'? I doubt that would go down well."

Sirius had, the previous day, finally succumbed to James's demands to know how he was going about putting Professor Lupin out of work, and whether he had anything to do with the teacher's sudden absence. The dark haired boys had been talking seriously in a corner for over an hour before they'd emerged – James relieved that he hadn't been imagining things when he'd seen Lupin and Sirius kissing in the mirror, and Sirius vaguely concerned as to why – as his friend had pointed out – he had been scrawling Lupin's initials on a piece of parchment. It had been decided that this was because he had been thinking hard about his 'plan', but Sirius was still left with a faint sense that All Was Not Right with his head.

"Stop worrying, will you?" James slapped one of Sirius's hands away from his mouth. "And stop chewing your fingernails. That won't solve anything."

"_But it's been three days!_" Sirius howled, making several Gryffindors scowl at him as he interrupted their work.

"Precisely. Only three days."

"But if he was ill he would have been cured by now in the infirmary!"

"Well, maybe it's something serious."

"Oh, it's something Sirius all right," Sirius said darkly. "I bet he's having a nice cosy chat with Dumbledore right now. I bet he's telling him _everything_. You wait, give it three days, maybe four, and I'll be back at home, having been expelled." He sniffed, disapprovingly. "…Or he's simply faking illness so he doesn't have to look at me again."

James had the vague feeling that the conversation was going around in circles.

"Er…" he said eloquently, and promptly gave up. Glancing desperately at the clock, he jumped to his feet. "Merlin's balls! Quidditch practice started ten minutes ago!" Cursing, he fled upstairs to grab his Quidditch robes, whilst Peter stared after him, disbelief written across his face.

Sirius scowled and made no move to get up, until James came hurtling back down the stairs and flung a set of scarlet robes at his friend. "_Up_, Sirius! Professor Lupin may not need you, but the Gryffindor Quidditch team does!" As he spoke, he was frantically attempting to pull the clothes on over his head, with his broomstick in one hand. A polite sixth year relieved him of it, and waited patiently until he had untangled himself.

Slinging the robes over one shoulder and picking up his own broom – which had been summoned by a helpful Peter – Sirius followed a panicked James out of the portrait hole and down to the Quidditch pitch, listening with mild amusement, despite himself, to the Captain's extended vocabulary of unflattering things about life, ungrateful friends, lack of time and the foul weather that was lurking on the horizon.

As they approached the pitch, Sirius noticed with some surprise that a group of scarlet-robed figures were sitting hunched up against the cold in one of the stands, whilst above them a team of green-robed players weaved and dodged, tossing an old tennis ball to one another and laughing. Next to Sirius, James cursed under his breath, his body tensing as he prepared himself for a fight as one by one, the other team landed.

"Potter, what on earth are you doing here?" The Slytherin Captain, Aaron Lestrange raised an eyebrow, leaning on his broomstick. "There's a Slytherin practice this evening." His gaze flickered briefly over to Sirius, and he nodded politely. "Black."

"Aaron." Sirius' eyes and voice were cool, polite and distant, and James eyed him uneasily for a moment, before addressing Lestrange again.

"The pitch was reserved for the Gryffindors to practice from seven to nine thirty."

"Yes, but as you can see," Aaron waved a hand, "their Captain wasn't here, so they couldn't very well practice, could they?" His grin was malicious. "So we took advantage of the situation."

"Well you can fuck off now." James's temper was fraying rapidly.

Lestrange stiffened, looking affronted. "No. You were late, you lost the pitch. That's not out fault, Potter. You and your pathetic team will just have to practice elsewhere. Oh, I forgot," he continued, his tone taunting, "you're not allowed to practice Quidditch on the school grounds anywhere but the pitch. Oh well, bad luck. Maybe next time you'll get down here a little faster."

"Listen you –" James was cut off abruptly by Sirius, who raised a hand wearily.

"James, leave this to me."

"But –"

"Leave. This. To. Me. Go and talk to the rest of the team, tell them we'll start practice in a minute." Sirius's gaze didn't move from Aaron's face as he spoke but he could see, dimly in the background, Snape in his green Quidditch robes, smirking. He didn't move until James had stomped off the pitch towards his teammates, then raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he spoke.

"Alright, Lestrange. Enough is enough. Get off the pitch, please or I'm going to have to write home to my mother and tell her all about that charming little _Hufflepuff_ you've been seeing on the side. I'm sure she'd be interested to know, particularly as your older brother is marrying my cousin, isn't he? It would be _such_ a shame to ruin a good match." It was very rare that Sirius let his 'Black' side out to play during the school term, but he was almost enjoying himself as he watched Aaron blanch. "I'm sure my mother wouldn't hesitate to tell your parents, either," he added. Not once had he raised his voice, or used tones that were anything but polite, yet the Slytherin felt…_threatened_, there was no other word for it. Sirius's smiling face and cold eyes were just altogether too pureblooded, too _Slytherin_. He came from one of the oldest families in the wizarding world and it showed, not matter how often he tried to hide the fact.

Lestrange backed down.

"Get off the pitch," he snapped at his team, turning away from Sirius, who was still smiling politely. As his housemates – save for Snape – walked away, he turned back, looking thoughtful. "I thought I had been discrete with Eleanor," he muttered, looking worried. "How on earth did you know?"

"My dear," Sirius's tones were haughty, good breeding dripping through them. "I know nearly _everything_ that goes on in this school. And how could you possibly expect me not to keep a close eye on anybody whose brother is marrying into the family?" He smirked and turned, sauntering back towards the stands as Aaron stared after him, open-mouthed.

"Black." The sneering voice made him pause, glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

Snape was standing behind him, ignoring Lestrange, who was slowly making his way off the pitch. "How _is_ your family?"

"What do you care?" Sirius snapped. He may have been polite, elegant, to Aaron, but he was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with Snape.

Snape shrugged. "I just thought you might have heard a little rumour about your brother…" he paused, smiling nastily.

"What about Regulus?" Worry began pooling in Sirius's stomach as he thought of his younger sibling, off at Durmstrang.

"Oh," Snape casually examined the end of his broom, pushing a small twig back into place. "Something about…Voldemort, was it?"

"_What_?" Sirius's voice was an angry hiss as he swung around to face Snape completely. "Just what are you saying, you despicable little snake?"

Snape smiled, pleased to be drawing blood. "A Death Eater. That's what I'd heard." _There, Black, let your arrogant 'Gryffindor pride' deal with_ that_ little piece of information_.

"You're lying." Sirius's voice was rough, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl.

"No lie." Snape's eyes narrowed. "I'm not surprised though; I always knew he'd end up in trouble with someone like _you_ as a role model."

James, who had been sitting with the rest of the team, heard a furious yell from the pitch. Recognising it as Sirius's, he squinted down and saw his friend had lunged at a Slytherin, knocking him flat onto his back. Sirius had straddled the other player and was making a good attempt at beating him into a pulp with his fists, which were – James had to admit – flailing rather desperately.

As he vaulted over the railings of the stand and began to run down the steps, an enraged voice cut clear across the cold evening air.

"SIRIUS BLACK!"

Professor Fogarty – known affectionately as 'Mars' by pupils and teachers alike – was storming onto the pitch, his expression black as thunder. The sports teacher was tall, lean and with curling blond hair that fell to just past his shoulders, but despite his rather angelic appearance he had a quick temper and didn't hesitate in dishing out formidable punishments. Right now, James reflected as he skidded to a halt next to the prone figure of – as he could now see – Snape and the defiant Sirius, Mars was furious. He didn't envy his friend.

"Assaulting another _student_? What were you thinking?!"

Sirius, who had climbed off of Snape, muttered something, but didn't look up from where his gaze was rooted to the floor.

"What was that?" Mars snapped, "Speak up, Black!"

"I said, _Sir_, that Snape accused my brother of being a Death Eater."

James drew his breath in, sharply. That explained a lot; Sirius had already had to deal with a load of pureblood crap this week – largely, he admitted, from himself – and Snape's comment was, no doubt, the final straw.

"That is no excuse." The teacher's face was still furious. "You're lucky I'm not Professor McGonagall, or you'd be off the team, boy. You have detention, starting as of now. You will stay behind and clean out the changing rooms. In the meantime, practice will be cancelled this evening. Mr Potter, kindly inform your team mates whilst I take Mr Snape here to the hospital wing. Black, I'll send someone down to keep an eye on you."

James glanced at Snape, who was deathly pale, two large bruises already puffing up around his eyes. He clearly had a broken nose and his lips were a mess of blood. Mars hauled the Slytherin to his feet, propping him up with an arm around his shoulder and route-marched him back towards the castle.

AaAaAaAa

Sirius was sitting on one of the benches in the changing room, still seething with anger, when he heard the light footfalls that indicated the approach of his supervisor for the evening. Sighing, he stood up, briefly wondering whether he was supposed to have used his time thus far to reflect upon his overreaction. He hadn't, of course, but it might be a good idea to tell the teacher that he had.

When Remus Lupin walked into the room, Sirius nearly sat back down again in shock.

The Professor's normally tired-looking face was now bordering on haggard. Dark shadows under his eyes and a half-starved appearance only made him seem far older than he had any right to. His skin was deathly pale and he walked with a slight limp that he was clearly trying – and failing – to hide.

"Remus!" Sirius leapt forwards, taking his arm. "Sit down, you look as though you're about to collapse."

The teacher stiffened at his casual touch, then pulled away so sharply it was as though he had been burnt. "I'm fine," he said curtly, and motioned to the room. "I suggest you get started. I was informed your task was to clean this place up."

"Where have you been? Are you ok? You look really ill!" Sirius ignored the other man's order.

"I'm fine." Remus repeated, "Now hurry up, I want to get back up to the school as quickly as possible."

Sirius frowned and decided to disregard the fact that he, too, had just had his questions ignored. "Fine." He picked up the cloth he had found on one of the basins and wetted it before turning back to Remus, a mischievous – if somewhat strained – smile gracing his features. "But only if you'll kiss me first."

"No." Remus's voice was abrupt, cold. "I made a mistake once, Mr Black, I don't intend to repeat it. Now please begin." Ignoring the hurt look Sirius shot him, he sank down onto one of the benches, trying not to wince as the newly healed cut on his leg pulled. Watching the pupil work, he silently cursed Dumbledore's good intentions in sending him down here as opposed to another member of staff.

_I feel it would do Sirius good to talk to someone who, in many respects, understands him_, he'd said. _And you_ did_ agree to mentor him for me, Remus_. When the young teacher had protested, Dumbledore had simply looked at him with wise eyes and asked precisely why Remus objected so much to keeping an eye on Sirius. Was there, perhaps, some kind of personal reason that forced him to withhold his compassion? As Remus had spluttered about the full moon being only a day past, and being exceptionally tired, Dumbledore had simply waited, then said "A teacher's job is never finished though, Remus. You know this. We must be alert twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days of the year." Which had effectively put paid to any other excuses Remus might have come up with.

As Sirius worked Remus stared at him, half desperate to escape, half desperate to go over and put his arms around the taller boy's waist and completely and utterly confused. _'I'm hopeless_,' he thought, miserably. _'I thought I'd got rid of this…this…infatuation. Or whatever you want to call it._' He sighed and rubbed a hand wearily across his face. _'God, I just want to sleep. Maybe this is actually a horrible dream and I'll wake up back at home any minute now_.'

"Are you sure you're ok, Professor?" Sirius had stopped work without Remus realising it, and was bending over in front of him, face near as he gazed with concern into the teacher's eyes. "You look really tired."

"I'm perfectly well." Despite the cool tone Remus attempted to adopt, a slight hint of warmth crept into his voice as he realised that here was someone who actually _cared_ about his physical state.

Sirius smiled. "Good, I'm glad." He leant a little closer. "Remus…"

"No!" Remus shot to his feet so fast that Sirius nearly tripped over as he staggered backwards in surprise. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but we can no longer do this. I am your _teacher;_ I could lose my job, which is something I don't want to happen. Therefore this…this…" _What exactly was it, anyway?_ "…_Thing_ has got to stop." Without waiting for a reply – and not wanting to hear one because he _knew_ Sirius would argue in favour of the little voice that was telling him to go back in there and steal the breath from the student's lungs – he walked out, pausing only to toss a promise to find another teacher to supervise Sirius's detention.

Sirius stood in the middle of the cold, dank changing room, his mouth hanging open as he stared after the rapidly retreating teacher. Something deep inside his chest was beginning to hurt and he wasn't sure whether the pain was physical or emotional. He couldn't identify it, whatever it was, so he simply threw down the wet cloth and flopped onto the bench, resting his chin in his hands as he squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to scream, wanting to curse.

"Shit," was the only thing he could manage.

AaAaAaAa

Remus stared at the locked trunk, his head spinning.

He was sitting in his office, the curtains were drawn and the door was securely locked. The trunk had arrived that morning from his old Headmaster at Beauxbatons, with a note saying _'Thought this might be useful to help with your teaching of third years_.' It was, of course, a Boggart. However, he wasn't entirely sure he could deal with it at the moment. His encounter with Sirius some three hours previously had left him confused, irritated and more than a little worried. If he was to brush up on his rusty _Riddikulus_ skills, he needed a peaceful and happy frame of mind.

Not exactly an ideal situation, then.

He nudged the trunk dubiously with his foot and wondered how he was going to make a full moon entertaining enough to force a laugh. A balloon was always a possibility, as was a round cheese – he had often been told as a child that the moon was made of it – or, perhaps, some kind of insect. A cockroach, perhaps, or a butterfly which was, after all, still an insect when you got right down to it.

Sighing, he decided on a piece of cheese and reached for his wand, already rehearsing the spell in his mind – mouthing it silently to the empty room. Rubbing his sweating palms against his robes, he gripped his wand firmly and swiftly unlocked the trunk, pushing back the lid.

"_Rid_ – "

And froze.

Sirius stepped out of the trunk in all his rumpled glory. His shirt was hanging loosely from his shoulders, his tie nowhere to be seen. He was wearing no shoes and his feet slapped against the floor as he stepped out onto the cold stone. His hair was tousled but still ridiculously long and his grey eyes were lush, enticing, as he stared at Remus from under lowered lashes, a small smiling playing around slightly parted lips.

"Oh…god…" Remus croaked, and the Sirius-Boggart cocked its head still smiling.

"Thank you," it said, Sirius's wicked humour perfectly engrained into it as it took another step forwards.

"Why…why on earth are you…" Remus shook his head, dizzily, and raised his wand. "You're not real," he reminded himself as much as the creature still approaching.

"No," the Boggart agreed amicably. "But I _am_ your worst fear."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" The Boggart paused, looking thoughtful; then it smiled. "No, I don't think it is." It laughed and began to slide its shirt off of its shoulders, making a small, pleased noise as Remus drew a deep breath in, shakily, then exhaled sharply. "I feed off of your fear," it said softly, running fluttering fingertips over its own collarbones as the discarded shirt pooled on the floor.

"But I don't fear Sirius." Remus couldn't drag his eyes away from the creature that looked and behaved exactly like his student.

"Oh, but you do." The Boggart laughed, tilting its head back to expose a slim, pale throat. "You fear what he does to you, you fear how he makes you lose control." It licked its lips, reaching out to run gentle fingers down Remus's cheek. "You fear not being able to say no to him." It grinned, displaying shockingly white teeth behind dark, parted lips. "I can see what's flashing through your mind," it said, almost kindly, "you've lost control once already, haven't you?"

"…Yes."

"There you are then." It smiled and leant forwards, warm breath rushing across Remus's lips. "That which you fear and desire all at once. How very ironic, the two strongest forces of humankind collide within you." It's grey eyes slitted, peering from under the thick lashes once more. "And you're powerless to stop this." It laughed again and grabbed Remus's face between slender, graceful hands. Pulling him forwards, it kissed him fiercely on the lips, moaning in pleasure as Remus stiffened, panicked. Slipping a warm tongue between the shocked Professor's lips it purred, a strangely Sirius sound, and wound its arms around Remus's neck.

Breaking away, it smiled as Remus swallowed, heavily. "You see? You are powerless. You _want_ me here just as much as you wish I would simply go away. Humans, you are all so contradictory, you can never decide what it is you really want, and you always crave that which is bad for you."

"I don't." Remus's voice was barely a whisper. "I don't crave what is bad for me. I don't desire Sirius and I don't fear you."

"Lies; all lies," the Boggart sang, releasing Remus and dancing lightly back a step, its long black hair swaying with its every movement. "If any of that were true I wouldn't be here." It clasped its hands together in a strangely child-like gesture that fitted oddly well with Sirius's body and behaviour. "A little word of advice, Professor, I wouldn't show your…_technique_ at defeating Boggarts to any of your classes – I'm not sure _they_ would appreciate the sight as much as you do." Its gaze flickered slyly over Remus's face, which was caught in a fierce blush.

"I'm not afraid of you," the teacher repeated, raising his wand.

"Aren't you?" The Boggart cocked its head and smiled. "I am your greatest fear, Remus – your greatest desire." It's eyes glinted as Remus opened his mouth. "See you later, _Professor_."

"_Riddikulus_!"

The Boggart vanished with a crack and a puff of smoke, which poured back into the open trunk, leaving Remus alone once more in his classroom, staring very hard at the floor and refusing to think of anything at all.

**To Be Continued…**

**CB:** Much love and worshipping once again to the amazing Ncascanuez who is a fantastic 'plot beta' and came up with the stunning idea for the Boggart scene!


	7. Chapter Seven

**CB:** Adoration and devotion to all who reviewed. Smothers in hugs And a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to _Ncascanuez_ again, for being the almighty plot beta. This fic is dedicated to you now – enjoy!

Thanks to:

Starrrr, Roz, LunasStar, HappyDappyDrunk, empath89, Dawn Aurilain, Lady Geuna, Jo, moonanddogstar, cindered-hope, Lyth Taeraneth, Hell's Angel – Heaven's Demon, Wesleigh, LBx, Squishy Gamgee, KeyvieSnape, alana chantelune, Dr Titou Moony, Wan wingu no tenshi, The Wishmasters, Mithua, Shadow Cat17, Orange Horiz0ns, OrA-ShiNi-gi, JWGrey, Quick-fix, The all mighty and powerfulM, Lilsi, the-only-innocent, moonylover2000, haruechan, Resisting Arrest, Amaroq, penny, rayvern, Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma, BlueEyedDemon1, Plushii, Drake and Jang, driven to insanity, XxMercuryTearsxX, Yorkshire Pudding.

'_I sing of arms and of the man, fated to be an exile…_'

- V**irgil's 'Aeneid', Book One**

"Once there was a little brown jug, little brown jug, little brown jug…"

Peter buried his face in his hands, letting out a low groan as James continued to sing, half hanging upside down off one of the sofas in the Gryffindor Common room. Giving up on his Transfiguration homework, the shorter boy shoved it away from him and glared at the musical Quidditch Captain, who had moved on from a fast-paced (and off-key) rendition of some muggle song, and had launched into 'A Wizard And His Staff' – a song that had been banned some three years previously thanks to a Yule Ball, McGonagall and several bowls of spiked punch. (Peter hadn't gone to the ball that year, but he had heard all about it from Sirius, complete with exclamations such as "And it was _this_ big…" or "Red as our bed curtains – absolutely furious…" – hand gestures, much to his dismay, had been included.)

"Theeeeee…" James began as the last of the third year Gryffindors gave up on their homework, collected their books together and stormed out of the common room, shooting dark looks at the warbling menace still perched precariously on the furniture.

"James?"

"Wizard's staff has a…sorry, what?" Pulling himself upright, James raked a hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. "Yes, Pete?"

"Do you think you could SHUT UP?" Peter's voice echoed around the now empty room and his friend winced, surprised at the sudden outburst.

"Sorry, I was just practicing."

Peter rolled his eyes. "For _what_ exactly?"

"Ahem." Pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket with a flourish, James peered at it dramatically. "Calling all students," he read, raising the pitch of his voice in a fair imitation of Professor McGonagall. "There will be an inter-house music competition at the end of this term. The idea of this is to celebrate the cultural differences between the muggle and magical worlds of music and song. All students interested in entering the competition should see me for an audition time before the end of the week." Dropping the paper he raised an eyebrow. "See? I think I could go in for it."

"James," Peter's voice was carefully neutral, "I don't think Professor McGonagall is going to appreciate a rendition of, er, 'A Wizard And His Staff', somehow. Call it instinct but, um, might that not raise several rather…bad memories?" He winced as James practically swelled in righteous indignation.

"One mistake, Peter, _one_ mistake! And you condemn me for it! Professor McGonagall will have surely forgotten about that by now. Besides, it is a time-honoured song, sung in the tradition of all generations of pupils at Hogwarts." He sniffed, disapprovingly. "She can't bar me from singing my piece – I'm a credit to the Gryffindor spirit!"

"Who's a credit to the Gryffindor spirit?" Sirius asked as he pushed open the portrait hole, absently wiping his hands on a piece of cloth as he did so. "Some third-years were just talking about you," he added, flopping down on the sofa next to James. "You're not exactly popular at the moment – something about making an awful lot of noise? Caterwauling, in fact?" He grinned as James scowled, then flung the piece of dirty cloth at Peter.

"How was detention?" Peter asked mildly, removing the cloth from the top of his book and placing it neatly to one side.

"_Awful_. Maple supervised me in the end, and she made me scrub out the _toilets_ as well." Sirius' teeth were bared as he curled his lip in disgust. "Honestly, there's got to be some kind of law against detentions like that!"

"Well, you _did_ hit Snape," Peter said philosophically. "There's definitely a law against _that_."

Sirius turned to James. "You told him about that?"

James shrugged. "Of course. He would have found out tomorrow, anyway, when McGonagall comes storming over to our table and murders you in an orgy of blood, sausages and beans." He sighed. "Hope she _doesn't_ ban you from the Quidditch team. That's what she said she'd do if she found out we had made trouble yet again."

"I'd forgotten about that!" Sirius moaned, raking a hand through his hair. "Do you think I could bribe her?"

"Not likely, mate. Not unless you've got enough money to but Hogwarts, the grounds and Hogsmeade into the bargain. I've heard she's that expensive."

"Speaking of the grounds," Peter broke in, "have either of you seen that new tree that Professor Maple was going on about yesterday in Herbology?"

"Which one's that?" James tilted his head to one side, looking interested. Sirius merely shrugged.

"A Whomp-something. It was planted this year." Peter's eyes lit up. "Apparently it hits you if you get too close to it."

"They're probably using it to punish students," Sirius muttered darkly. "I bet the tie you to the trunk and let the tree bludgeon you to death."

"R-really?" Peter's eyes widened.

"He's joking, Pete," James said soothingly. "Are you _sure_ they've planted one here? Isn't it a little…ah…_dangerous_? What if someone runs into it by accident?" He frowned, looking thoughtful. "Terrible tragedy if it happened to one of the Slytherins…"

"Especially Snape," Sirius muttered, from where he had retreated to the far end of the sofa with one of Peter's textbooks. "Tragedy if he met with a fatal accident. Dear me, wouldn't that be a shame." Scowling, he buried his nose in the book, whilst Peter and James exchanged knowing glances.

"Anyway," Peter said, breaking the slightly awkward silence, "I was just wondering if either of you knew where it was – I haven't seen it, and thought it might be worth a look. Could be useful in our NEWT exam – we could mention it in the answers or…something."

"I haven't seen it personally," said James, swinging his legs, "but Joanna said she saw it. It's quite near to the Forbidden Forest – apparently they thrive in darker areas like that…I think." He shrugged then winced as Sirius shifted, accidentally kicking his knee. "Watch where you're putting those things, Sear," he complained, then turned back to Peter. "Want to go have a look at it?"

Peter nodded and stood up, snapping shut his textbook and stacking his work neatly. "Alright. It's something to pass the time, anyway. Besides," he shot James a sly look, "it'll keep you away from those third-years. They looked like they could have cheerfully murdered you."

"Oy, oy, I wasn't _that_ bad!" James protested, flinging up his hands in defence. "Besides, I was only _practising_, that hardly means I'm going to have it perfect first time, now does it?"

"Practising for what, exactly?" Sirius casually turned a page of his book, then peered over the top of it.

"Inter-house music competition." James thrust the paper at his friend, who caught it, peering closely at the message. "Thought it might be a good way to get back in McGonagall's good books," he added, smirking as Peter muttered a disgusted 'figures…'. "Besides, with one hundred and fifty house points going to the winner, I think that whoever wins that will pretty much win the house cup this year."

"A…music competition," Sirius stated, resting the paper between the pages of his book. "Hmm, sounds like a bit of a laugh, at any rate." He smiled, suddenly. "Maybe I'll enter it."

"Doing what?" Peter eyed him sceptically.

"Oh, I'll think of something." Sirius shrugged noncommittally, then turned back to the textbook.

"Anyway, are we going to find that tree or not?" James demanded, turning towards the portrait hole. "Some fresh air will do you the power of good, Pete. Coming, Sear?" He asked over his shoulder, and Peter scrambled to catch up with him.

"No, think I'll stay here and read this." Sirius hefted the book and nodded towards the portrait hole. "You guys go – I'm not really that interested in a plant, anyway. Even if it does hit people." He smiled as James rolled his eyes, then waited impatiently for his friends to exit the common room. As soon as they were gone, he slid the notice about the upcoming competition out and stared at it, grey eyes thoughtful.

AaAaAaAa

"I really, _really_ don't understand that kid!" Mars gulped the last of his tea and banged his mug back on the table. "I mean, _fighting_! With a fellow student! And right where he _knew_ he would get caught. I mean, I can understand it if it was a private scuffle in a back passage somewhere, but in _full view_?" He sighed and sat back, rubbing his forehead wearily. "It's just… well, if it was anyone else I'd say it was stupidity."

Flitwick made a sympathetic noise. "The tragedy is that he _is_ intelligent," he piped, nibbling on a chocolate biscuit. "He just seems to devote his whole energy to wreaking havoc as opposed to setting an example."

"Even Potter's improved over the past year," Professor Maple added, viciously dunking a protesting gingerbread man into her cup of coffee. "But _Black_…" she tutted and bit the unfortunate biscuit's head off, cutting short a last protesting shriek.

Remus winced and sunk lower into his own armchair by the staff room fire. The subject since his arrival had been none other than the topic he most wished to avoid: Sirius Black. The other teachers had wasted no time in expressing their opinions ('Again,' he thought sourly) of the errant student, but he had hitherto remained silent – he was not in any position to judge.

It was only a blessing that McGonagall hadn't heard of the latest offence yet.

As if lured by his thoughts, the door to the staff room flew open and Professor McGonagall breezed in, carrying an armload of books. She smiled gratefully as Mars leapt to his feet and took them from her, depositing them on the coffee table, and she sank heavily into one of the armchairs nearest to Remus. The sports teacher sat down again as well, just as Dumbledore ambled into the room, and the conversation resumed.

"I sometimes wonder if it's something to do with his upbringing," Mars said, absently fiddling with a strand of golden hair that had escaped from the short tail he customarily wore it in. "I mean, maybe the boy's _told_ to behave like this."

"Hardly likely," Professor Sinn, the Divinations teacher who was known only by his last name, frowned. "We don't get half the trouble from the other purebloods."

"I assume," McGonagall cut in wearily, "that we are talking about our erstwhile student, Mr Black?"

Sinn and Mars exchanged brief glances whilst Professor Maple became suddenly engrossed in her coffee. Flitwick stared absently at the ceiling and Remus, sensing trouble, shrank still further into his seat, noticing the way McGonagall's lips pursed. Dumbledore sighed and raised one white eyebrow.

"I take it this is about the fight he had with young Mr Snape?" he asked mildly.

A hiss came from Professor McGonagall's armchair. "_Really_, Albus! Do you have to sound so…calm about the whole thing? Are you really informing me that a member of my own house assaulted another student?" She sighed, despite her evident irritation and reached for the box of biscuits, biting into one with unnerving ferocity. "That boy is hopeless, _hopeless_! He's a lost cause. I should just ban him from the Quidditch Team and have done with him."

"I hardly think that's a wise idea. Don't you agree, Remus?"

All attention suddenly turned to the werewolf, who cleared his throat, silently cursing Dumbledore in every different language he could think of. "Er…well. I wouldn't say Sirius is a lost cause…" he began hesitantly.

"Rubbish." Professor Sinn leant forwards, his normally cheerful brown eyes sparking with indignation. "Black's caused nothing but trouble in _my_ lessons since he was eleven!" He scowled and folded his arms, not bothering to brush away the black strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes with the abrupt movement.

"Really, Professor, I must insist you let Remus put forward his view." Dumbledore held up his hand, forestalling the anticipated argument from Sinn, who bit his lip and sat back, earning himself a consoling pat on the shoulder from Mars.

"And, um, I don't think taking away his Quidditch privileges is the way to sort him out," Remus continued nervously. "I think that Sirius is the type of student who will rebel against punishment. I think," he added, suddenly inspired, "he gets more than enough of that at home." He coughed, embarrassed, as Dumbledore nodded, blue eyes intent on his face. "And, um, as I said, I don't think Sirius is _deliberately_ bad. I think it's the way he has been brought up to behave and, er, it's his way of expressing himself. Um…" he trailed off and dubiously looked at the rest of the staff, who were all staring at him as if he had grown an extra head.

All, that is, except Dumbledore.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Remus," he said gently. "I, too, think Sirius has great potential and that if we deal with him in the wrong way, we will undoubtedly drive him to greater lengths to break away from society." He beamed, suddenly. "I'm glad that my instinct was correct when I asked you to keep an eye on him."

_'Oh please, please god, let me crawl into a hole and die_,' Remus thought. What he _said_ was, "Oh, er, thank you."

McGonagall frowned. "I still don't think we should let him get away without a proper punishment. Fighting in the school is a serious offence. He should at _least_ be given a detention – I refuse to allow a student to get away without some form of reprimand."

Mars looked up from where he had been peering over Professor Sinn's shoulder as the other man explained a theory on parallel universes. "I _did_ give him a detention," he said, having half-listened to the conversation. "I made him clean out the locker room by hand."

"I can verify that," Professor Maple added. "I oversaw his detention."

"Really?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were asked to do that, Remus?"

"Oh…er." Remus coughed. "I started to, but I was so exhausted what with…everything…that Professor Maple agreed to take over for me." He thought he saw Maple wink at him out of the corner of his eye, and swallowed, hard.

"Ah," Dumbledore sat back looking satisfied. "Well, next time don't let this old codger bully you into it if you're that tired, eh Remus?" He smiled absently at him, then turned to look at McGonagall, who was still fuming. "A game of chess, my dear?"

McGonagall nodded and for a while silence reigned in the staff room, broken only by the occasional cry from an unfortunate chess piece, or the quiet murmuring from the corner Mars and Sinn were in, poring over the dusty tome explaining the theory of parallel universes.

The peace was shattered a few precious minutes later, however, when Flitwick – who had been reading the paper – sat bolt upright, a shocked squeak escaping his lips. McGonagall and Dumbledore looked up from the chessboard, eyebrows raised; Sinn and Mars paused in their quiet debate and even Remus sat up straighter, curiosity overcoming his wish for peace and quiet. Only Professor Maple continued to drink her coffee, unperturbed.

"I say," Flitwick's voice was breathless, "listen to this!"

"Yesterday Mr K. L. Staed was sentenced to five years in Azkaban. This sentence was pronounced after a hearing that lasted several days. Staed – a Professor at Durmstrang – was arrested last month following an allegation made by the parents of one of his pupils. The thirty six year old man had, apparently, been engaging in an illicit affair with one of his older female students.

"Following this allegation an inquiry was made and Staed was arrested on justified grounds. Whilst the girl was of age, the court decided against releasing Mr Staed due to the fact that such a relationship is illegal. Mr Staed's lawyer is expected to release a statement to the press shortly, concerning the appeal, which is already scheduled for February next year…"

Flitwick trailed off and looked up, wide-eyed. "Isn't that Kane?" he asked.

Dumbledore held out his hand for the paper and studied the picture next to the report. "I believe you're right," he said, sounding mildly surprised. "Really, he's the last person I would have expected to end up like this." He blinked, peering down at the paper from behind his half moon spectacles. "How very strange," he mused into the thick silence of the staff room, "I always thought Kane was a remarkably sensible young man." He sighed and hand the paper back to Flitwick. "Such is the way of the world."

Professor Maple placed her coffee cup back on the table with a soft thud. "I saw the article this morning," she said quietly. "A bit of a shock, that. I'm surprised Kane would do something so…stupid." Her lips twisted in a small smile. "And he was such a bright boy – I was proud to call him my pupil and later my colleague." She sighed. "And now to see how far he's fallen…"

"It's his own fault," Mars was still lounging casually on the sofa next to Sinn, who was carefully avoiding looking at anyone in the room. "If he was stupid enough to get involved with a pupil, he deserves everything he gets."

"Isn't that a little bit of a heard-hearted attitude to take?" Professor Maple demanded, glancing up absently as several more members of staff drifted in, including Professor Tone the old Ancient Runes teacher.

"Not really." Mars folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It is incredibly foolish to get involved with a student – the laws are _quite_ specific on that. If Staed didn't pay close enough attention to what could happen if he was discovered…well, that's his loss."

"Sinn, what do you think?" Professor Maple appealed to her colleague.

Sinn's young face took on a carefully neutral expression. "Well…" he said dubiously, "it's a little difficult to judge, not having had experience being in the same situation as our unfortunate ex-professor. However, whilst I _would_ say that it was stupid of him to become involved with this girl, I fear it hardly warrants five years in Azkaban." He sighed as Mars shot him a furious look, and shrugged. "But I suppose that punishment is there to deter people from doing exactly what Kane did."

Remus turned his face away to stare into the fire, his cheeks burning. Fear and guilt trickled ice-cold down his spine. Someone else…someone else had been in exactly the same situation as he, and they had fallen prey to temptation. The full weight of what he had done rested heavily in his mind and he knotted his fingers together, nervously. It felt as though if any of the other Professors were to look at him, they would see his guilt instantly. It _had_ to be written all over his face, for the world to see, judge and condemn. Nobody could possibly miss the panic in his eyes…

"Remus?" Mars had risen from the sofa and was gently shaking his shoulder. He nearly leapt backwards in surprise when Remus started so violently that the whole armchair shuddered. "Good grief, what has you so worked up?"

"Oh…nothing." Remus bit his lip, praying that his nerves wouldn't show too much.

Mars shrugged. "Sinn and I were about to go down to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat, then head off to do some marking in a quiet corner somewhere." He grinned and indicated the other teachers, most of who were still arguing over the plight of the hapless Kane. "I figured you wouldn't really want to stay here with this lot, so why not come with us? I know it's not the most exciting offer in the world, but…"

"Thanks, I'd love to." Remus cut him off and stood up abruptly, unable to take the suffocating atmosphere in the staff room any longer.

"Wonderful," Sinn was peering over Mars's shoulder, brown eyes kind. "Maybe you can show us that Boggart you received today?"

Remus choked. "Er, no…um. I'm afraid….er…" he muttered, scrambling for an excuse. "Sorry." He finished, having not come up with anything."

Sinn and Mars looked at one another then shrugged.

"Go and grab your stuff," the sports teacher said.

AaAaAaAa

Most of the students were in the Great Hall having dinner when Sirius finally emerged from the common room, Peter's textbook tucked under one arm. James had been back briefly to see if he wanted to go down to dinner with them, but Sirius had waved him off, promising he'd be down later, but that he had something important to do first. He'd then trotted off as fast as possible to find Professor McGonagall and sign up for the inter-house music competition.

She had looked at him with pursed lips, her expression sour and he had guessed immediately that she had heard about what had been dubbed as 'The Snape Incident'. Surprisingly though, she hadn't commented, merely asked him to place his name on the register and informed him that his audition would be on Friday. If he was late, she had said coldly, he would automatically fail the audition, and would he please make sure he brought anything he needed? The school could _not_ provide for him.

He had nodded like a good boy and hurried away back to the common room before she could change her mind.

Striding down the corridor lost in thought, he nearly collided with the dark figure who emerged from a side passage. There was a startled exclamation of surprise, and he found himself looking into the cool grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

"Sirius? What on earth are you doing rushing down a corridor like a black-robed demon?" An appraising gaze was dragged over his body, and Sirius stiffened defensively. "I would have thought you'd be at dinner."

"I wasn't hungry." Sirius's voice was a pool of quiet politeness. "Besides, I think I should be asking _you_ why you're here. Didn't you leave last year? Or did you like the place so much you felt you had to come back?" He smiled as Malfoy raised an elegant blond eyebrow.

"Why, I'm here to represent my father on the board of governors. He's ill and, sadly, couldn't make it. So I was sent to keep an eye on that fool of a headmaster." He smoothed his black robes and tucked a strand of platinum blond hair behind one ear. "Surely you'd know that, though? I would have thought your mother or one of your cousins would have informed you of the situation."

"Sadly my mother's missives have been lacking detail, of late," Sirius replied coolly, his fingers tightening on Peter's textbook. "I'm afraid the entire content has been about my own shortcomings, not those of her…friends."

"Ah, I'd heard about that." Lucius' smile widened. "You _are_ in a bit of trouble, aren't you? You're getting quite a…_reputation_ at home; something of a muggle lover, or so I am led to believe. Sad, I would have credited you with more taste than that, Black. After all, it wasn't that long ago that we were friends."

"I would hardly have called us that." Sirius bowed his head, his hair spilling around his face like a black curtain, hiding his expression. "Perhaps 'acquaintances' is more accurate."

"Well, your mother approved of our…_acquaintance_." Lucius thoughtfully tapped his chin with a finger. "And this was only…what, six months ago? How time passes quickly – you have changed so much in such a short space of time." Something sparked in his eyes and he leant forwards, voice quieter. "You've grown, Sirius Black. You are far more a man than the boy I spent the summer with. Look at you – burning with righteous anger and your own opinions." He laughed as Sirius hissed under his breath, still refusing to look up. "But you are still _so_ much fun to antagonize."

"I am not your toy, Malfoy," Sirius's voice was vibrating with barely concealed anger. "You think I am something created solely for the purpose of amusing you. You take great pleasure in humiliating me then teaching me self-worth, only to take it away again. But you forget," he lifted his head to stare at Lucius, grey eyes burning, "I am _not_ your plaything. I am a Black, and as such, I deserve to be treated with respect."

There was a long, drawn out pause until finally, Lucius spoke.

"Well, well," he said softly, maliciously, "it seems that the silly little boy really _has_ grown up. Your mother will be delighted when I tell her what a fine heir to the Black tradition you have become. Tell me, do your little friends see you like this? I'm sure they appreciate your attitude." He smirked as Sirius stiffened, sensing he had hit a raw nerve. "It must be so _difficult_ for you, Sirius, having to associate with the likes of…them."

"Listen you half-witted, in-bred –"

"Is there a problem?" The mild voice behind the two men made them jump, Lucius stiffening and Sirius spinning around so fast that he nearly fell over.

Remus was standing there, Professor Fogarty and Professor Sinn lurking behind him, both trying not to look too interested and failing miserably. The young teacher raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he took in the scene before him. His gaze slid over Lucius to Sirius and paused, turning thoughtful. His lips twitching he took a step forwards, turning back to Lucius as he schooled his face into a polite smile.

"I'm terribly sorry, I hope he wasn't bothering you."

"No, no," Malfoy's expression changed swiftly from one of surprise to something unreadable. "He was just…telling me where I might find the Headmaster's office."

"It's just down the hall, but unfortunately I don't have the password."

"I do," Sinn said quietly, brushing past Remus. "Would you like to follow me?" He looked over his shoulder pointedly. "Coming, Professor Fogarty?"

Sirius watched worriedly as the three older men retreated down the corridor, before he turned to look up at Remus, expression half guilty, half defiant. He nearly gulped at the teacher's serious expression, and nearly shrank back against the wall, only reminding himself in time that he was a good few inches taller and was _not_ someone who was intimidated easily. Not at all, in fact – even if Remus _was_ looking at him as though he wanted to rip his throat out.

"I wasn't actually bothering him," he said sulkily.

"I know." The fierce gaze softened slightly and Remus leant casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. "But I think it might be just as well if you tried to avoid Mr Malfoy. I've heard…quite a lot about him. He doesn't strike me as the most forgiving or nicest of men." He half smiled then looked away quickly as Sirius' teeth flashed in a cautious grin.

"He…um…actually he was the one who stopped to talk to me."

"I figured as much."

There was a long, awkward pause, until finally Remus pushed away from the wall, taking a deep breath. "Well, I'll see you in class, Mr Black. Make sure you've done that essay, won't you?"

"Wait –"

But Remus had already turned and walked off down the corridor.

AaAaAaAa

He dreamt of soft skin sliding against his own, the heat marking him like a brand – burning. Soft, sheer pleasure as clever fingers skipped across his collarbone, slid up his neck, buried – almost roughly – in his hair. He felt the warm rush of air across his mouth and whimpered, lips already tingling and sensitive, aching to be touched, caressed.

"Quiet now." Gold eyes were looking down at him, molten, languid. "If you're not quiet they'll hear us."

A soft-rough tongue swiped across one stiffened nipple and he cried out in surprise, hips bucking sharply against the warm weight that straddled him. Strong, graceful hands pushed him sharply down again, even as teeth gently worried the skin of his shoulder.

"First lesson: always do as the teacher tells you." Two fingers found his other nipple, pinched it; twisted. "Second lesson: never speak unless spoken to." Soft bites smattered his skin and the lithe body above him shifted, sliding slowly downwards as the other man purred into stomach. "Third lesson: you pay attention." The rasp of a tongue against sweat-slicked skin and he whimpered, writhing helplessly.

"Do you understand me?" The gaze was piercing, devouring, and it was all he could do not to moan – plead desperately for something, anything. Anything that would end this aching need that raged throughout his body – that made him pant like the whore his mother always told him he was. He whined, a pitiful, desperate sound at the back of his throat, and was rewarded when lips descended on his own.

The savage meshing on mouths was so far removed from the sweetness he had expected that he nearly cried out in surprise, arching up into that wonderful heavy weight that pinned him down. Lips smothered his and he sighed as hungry teeth nibbled, before a slick tongue plundered his mouth, skittering across his teeth before sliding against his own tongue, flickering teasingly before darting away.

"You're a fast learner, Mr Black."

"I…always aim to please…" His own voice, roughened, heavy – dripping with sin and sex as the gold eyes watching him flared desire crackling in them, sending sparks shooting down his spine in response. Just that look and he wanted…oh how he wanted. So easy, to make him fall after all, so easy to submit, to be taken, to beg and plead until he had no breath left, to wail until his needs were satisfied.

Slender, clever fingers found his cock, ran calloused pads over it, tearing a moan from deep in his throat.

"Sirius…" the harsh pant was warm against his mouth.

"Sirius…"

"SIRIUS"

Sirius yelped, his body jerking upright as the yell sounded close to his ear. Half tangled in his covers, he paused, panting as he stared around the room, wild-eyed. On the floor by his bed, James winced, rubbing his head, which he had hit against the bedside table. Sirius's abrupt awakening had made him jump so much that he had staggered, tripping over a carelessly tossed shoe.

"Ouch…" he muttered, still rubbing his forehead, and crawled onto his knees. "Sear, are you ok?"

Sirius blinked, breath coming harshly as he struggled to get his rebellious body back under control. As the hungry ache in his belly subsided, he sighed, raking a hand through sweat-tangled hair that had escaped from the customary plait he wore it in to sleep. "Sorry, James, what?" he asked distractedly, still staring at a point beyond the end of his bed, eyes vague and slightly disorientated.

James repeated the question.

"Yeah, fine." Sirius rubbed his eyes wearily.

"Well you were thrashing in your sleep and whimpering like you were in pain." James stood up, folding his arms, looking worried.

"No, I'm fine." Sirius smiled weakly and peered at the window, which was already showing the grey light of early morning. "We'll need to get up, in a minute." He sighed and looked at James. "Sorry for waking you so early."

"Hey, not a problem." James thumped him lightly on the arm, grinning, although his eyes remained concerned. "Getting up early is probably good for me…somehow." He sighed and peered over his shoulder at the dark shape of Peter – still fast asleep in his bed. "Think we should wake him up?" he snickered and edged towards Peter's bed. "Maybe a nice bucket of icy water would do the trick."

"Nah, one of us deserves some sleep." Sirius jerked his head towards the bathroom. "Go on, you jump in the shower and I'll go after you. Maybe we'll even be down to breakfast on time for once."

"Heaven forbid!" James gasped, placing a hand dramatically to his chest, before scooping up his towel, which had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor by his bed the previous evening. "If we were early we'd give McGonagall a heart attack." He paused, looking serious. "Could you live with the guilt of killing a teacher, Sirius? It would be an awful wicked thing to do."

"No, wouldn't be able to cope." Sirius forced a cheerful note into his voice, face frozen in a smile until James had gone into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Letting the smile drop from his face, he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with me?" he hissed from between gritted teeth. "I'm turning into some kind of…of…freak!" He groaned and pushed aside his bedcovers, wincing as cold air began to wrap around his body. "It was just a dream," he said firmly, ignoring the cold flagstones under his feet. "Just a dream, and a dream is nothing but your brain processing information from the previous day. Things just got a bit mixed up in there, that's all."

Standing, he strode over to the mirror that stood at one end of the dormitory in case of hair emergencies 9which, in James's case was every day). Staring at his pale, wide-eyed reflection, he scowled. "Just a dream," he repeated, testing his forehead against the cool glass.

"Just a dream."

AaAaAaAa

"Well I hope the other students are better than that one," Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath to Remus as she firmly crossed Francis Alders' name from her list. "If they're as bad as him, I'm afraid Gryffindor has no hope." She pursed her lips, shooting a narrow glare at a group of boys standing in once corner of the Transfiguration classroom. "Honestly, I should have put 'Talent a must' on the notice."

Remus laughed quietly and handed her the next piece of music. "This one's for Jeremy," he said, nodding towards a fair-haired boy who was waiting nervously in the middle of the room. "Give him a chance, I've heard he's good."

The auditions for the inter-house music competition had begun late that afternoon with over forty applicants waiting hopefully in Professor McGonagall's classroom. Remus had been bullied into helping and he'd found, as the evening wore on, that he was actually enjoying himself. His colleague may have had high standards, but she had a keen ear for music and so far only three students had been picked to represent Gryffindor.

"Who's after Jeremy?" Remus inquired, as McGonagall put a tick next to the small boy's name and smiling at him, motioning him over to one side.

"Er…" The other teacher peered at the list, her eyes widening in surprise. "James Potter."

"Potter?" Remus' eyebrows rose in surprise and he peered around the classroom until he spotted James, lurking in one of the corners, a vaguely disgruntled expression on his face as he ignored a group of third years who kept glancing over at him and giggling.

"Potter!" McGonagall's voice cracked sharply and James stiffened, swallowing, before he strode into the centre of the room. "Do you have an accompaniment?" she asked, tapping her pen against the desk as James shook his head. "No? Then begin, please."

As James launched into a rendition of 'A Witch's Cat', Remus found himself becoming more and more surprised. James was, despite early slip-ups, rather good. He stood with his head raised, back straight, eyes fixed defiantly on McGonagall. His voice was a good, strong tenor that echoed faintly around the classroom and he managed to stay precisely in key until the very last note, which he held for a remarkable period of time.

"Well," McGonagall said when he had finished. "I never thought you had it in you, Potter." She nodded towards the far side of the room. "Go and sit with your housemates, please. You'll start rehearsals on Monday." Smiling slightly as James let out an exuberant whoop, she turned to Remus. "Well, I am impressed. I honestly never believed that boy capable of anything that didn't involve mischief." She laughed, almost giddily. "Now if only Black shows some potential…"

"Sirius?" the bottom dropped out of Remus's stomach. "Sirius is auditioning?"

"Oh, yes. He was quite insistent about it, in fact. Despite my…reservations, I decided to allow him the benefit of the doubt. In fact," McGonagall peered at her list, "he's the last but one. Mind you, if he doesn't turn up…" She let the sentence hang and turned back to the students, nodding at a pale girl, who moved towards the piano.

Sirius was auditioning. Remus swallowed and wondered how suspicious it would look if he fled the classroom. Very, he realised with a sinking feeling. He'd just have to sit it out and pray that the boy didn't do anything too stupid. Maybe if he sat at the back of the room…but no, McGonagall needed him to sort out the music. He sighed and sank lower into his seat, wishing the earth would swallow him whole.

The time passed all too quickly, and it wasn't until James let out a loud "SEAR!" that Remus registered most of the students had finished their auditions and Sirius Black had, in fact, just walked into the classroom.

He was dressed casually in the baggy black t-shirt and dark denim jeans. His hair was pulled back from his face in a tail, leaving only the shorter, wispy bits to drift around his face. His grey eyes seemed darker, more intense as he hefted a case in one hand, and Remus realised with a start that it was because of the thin layer of what looked suspiciously like kohl, lining his eyes. On anyone else, he thought faintly, it would have looked ridiculous. It wasn't fair, it simply was. Not. Fair. The kohl made Sirius's skin seem all the paler as well, he appeared almost like a wraith – insubstantial, made of moonlight and shadows.

Oh god, let me die here and now. Remus swallowed as Sirius paused, scanning the room. His eyes lit on the young teacher but, surprisingly, they didn't linger. Instead they flickered away, almost as though Sirius was suddenly embarrassed.

Remus watched surreptitiously as Sirius waved to James and strode across the room, Peter trailing behind him clutching a sheaf of music. Remus caught the words "practicing…" and "Peter's helped…" before a loud crescendo on the piano drowned out all other noise and the girl playing finished, standing up to take a bow to raucous applause from her fellow housemates.

"She was good," McGonagall murmured approvingly, placing a tick next to the girl's name. "At least we have a wide variety – unlike the Slytherins." The sneer was implicit in her voice, even if it didn't show on her face. "Nothing but singing, the whole lot of them. They think it's not good enough if they play an instrument invented by a muggle." She sniffed disapprovingly, then glanced at the list. "Sirius Black!"

Sirius turned, smiling at her, even as he refused to look at Remus. "Yes, professor?"

"Your audition piece," McGonagall snapped, "Let's hear it."

"Yes Professor." Sirius obediently strode into the centre of the room, waving impatiently to Peter, who scuttled after him, nearly dropping the music sheets. Grinning, the dark haired boy pointed at the piano, then waited for his shorter friend to place the music on the stand. Bending down, he unfastened the violin case and drew the instrument out, fingers lovingly caressing the polished wood before lightly plucking a string, checking to make sure it was in tune.

"I never knew he played the violin," McGonagall murmured to Remus, who nodded, swallowing.

I should be happy he's not even acknowledging me, he thought miserably, I'm the one who encouraged this, so why do I feel…rejected? He sighed and watched as Sirius, satisfied with the instrument, raised the violin, tucking it under his chin. The student glanced at Peter, who nodded, fingers ready over the keys of the piano, before smiling at Professor McGonagall, eyebrows raised.

"Shall I begin?"

"Yes, yes, get on with it," she snapped impatiently.

Sirius nodded and launched into his piece.

With the opening notes, Remus recognized it to be the Sarabande, but it was unlike anything he'd ever heard before. Peter's accompaniment provided a fast background tempo to which Sirius played fiercely. The violin positively sang under the dark haired boy's fingers, its song soaring into the air of the classroom, rendering the students speechless as they watched Sirius sway in time to the music.

The bow flashed across the strings, producing note after perfect note, the techno beat provided by the piano – and, Remus realised, the kind drumming assistance of one J. Potter – making the whole piece fit together remarkably well.

Sirius was moving with more abandon now, his body jerking with the violin, his hair coming loose from its tail to fall messily around his face as he concentrated. It was plain to anyone watching that he was completely lost in his own private world of music, following the path of the notes as he pulled a pure, unrelenting sound from the instrument under his fingers. It was, without a doubt, poetry in motion – an epic in sound, and Remus was unable to tear his eyes away from the lithe figure that had captivated his small audience.

Sirius's eyes were closed as the music reached its climax, a small frown marring his face as he focused entirely on the notes he wanted to produce. Peter's fingers flew over the keys of the piano as the Sarabande soared, dipped and finished with a triumphant flourish that had Sirius's bow moving so fast that if you squinted your eyes, it almost looked as though it was a blur of motion.

As the piece came to an end, the applause from the Gryffindors was nearly deafening. As Remus watched, McGonagall put a firm tick by Sirius's name, them smiled up at him.

"Very good, Mr Black. A little like a rock concert, but very good nonetheless."

"Well done, Sear!" James had abandoned his drum kit (and how had he not noticed that before? Remus wondered) and rushed across to clap Sirius on the shoulder. "I never knew you could play the bloody thing that well!"

Neither did I, Remus thought, then stiffened.

A figure playing on top of the tower to an audience of stars and one late-working teacher. A sad, melancholy piece that hadn't fitted with the beauty of the night, but had stirred sympathy in the very depths of his soul…

"You, it was you," Remus whispered, eyes riveted to Sirius's back.

Almost as though he could hear Remus, Sirius stiffened, then turned around. His grey eyes scanned the room before resting on the young teacher. Remus saw a flicker pass across Sirius's face before he nodded coolly, once, and turned, walking out of the classroom without looking back.

To Be Continued…


	8. Chapter Eight

**CB:** Worships _Ncascanuez_ and her reviewers. Adoration to:

Lyth Taeraneth, Hell's Angel – Heaven's Demon, LunasStar, Glorious Madness, LBx, Gohan Hugger, Shadow Cat17, Squishy Gamgee, haruechan, Mithua, Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma, Lily-Anne-the-Grey, DawnAurilain, Dr Titou Moony, goddess-of-the-sacred-river, Black Crystall Draygon, Lilsi, Lover not a fighter, Queen of the Paperclips, Moonylover2000, Tenebra Corvus, empath89, Jane Fairfax, Forrest, Doneril, korosu, The all mighty and powerfulM, Lunaris, alana chantelune, OrA-ShiNi-gi, The Wishmasters, starrrr, squiddie03, Obviously Oblivious, Roz, cindered-hope, Poicale, Amaroq, Animegril06, Mysterious blue eyes, RoschLupin-Black, Tanya J Potter, Beezlebub, Kitsuna Ri, Celeb-Draug04, Florcence Weasley-Snape, kinkydoomhobbit, Redex, Kenshingirl11, Psyche, Hells Angel, YukiDragon, looneymoony, becca, Capn-BlackRose

'_Often, I wonder how it is_

_That man can learn so little from a book,_

_And so much from life.'_

- **G.F. Coppard**

Sinn was curled up in a deep red armchair in his study at the top of the divination tower. His chin was propped up on one hand, his legs curled underneath him, and he was studying the book in front of him with an air of fierce concentration. The fire put a warm glow into his normally pale face and cast a cheerful light around the circular room, throwing out a welcoming wave of heat.

Rain was falling outside the tower in fierce torrents, lashing against the windowpanes and making visibility poor. The wind, too, was howling in a deafening chorus and it wasn't until there was an almighty thud against the glass that Sinn looked up.

A hunched, soaking figure was huddled on a broom outside the office window. Water streamed off its robes at it wobbled precariously, battling against the wind as it thumped the glass again, fist banging desperately as it struggled to stay upright.

"God almighty!" Tossing the book to one side, Sinn leapt to his feet and hurried over. Throwing open the window, he leapt backwards to avoid being drenched as well, as the man on the broomstick landed on the small stone ledge by the window and leapt inside, splattering water as he shook himself briskly. Leaning his broomstick against the wall he grinned at the surprised Divinations professor.

"Sorry to burst in on you like this, Annie sent me."

"Really!" Sinn snapped as he stalked back across the room, opening a cupboard door in search of a towel. "_What_ possessed you to come back out in this weather, if you please?"

"Like I said: Annie sent me."

"Huh." Sinn discovered a towel at the very back of the musty old cupboard and reached for it. Straightening, he turned around and nearly leapt backwards in fright as he came nose to nose with Mars, who merely grinned. "Gods, you're an imbecile sometimes."

"And how many times have I heard that?" Shrugging, Mars accepted the towel and flopped down into the armchair, wincing as his wet clothes stuck to his skin. "Annie wants to know if you'd like to come for dinner on Saturday."

"Depends. Are her children going to be present?"

"Of course."

Sinn grimaced and settled back down into his own armchair. "Mars, I will never understand how you manage to live with those four little miscreants. They're awful. They have no manners and they're _rude_."

"Oh come on, they're not all bad." Mars lazily flicked a piece of hair – turned a muddy brown from the rain – out of his eyes. "Marta's smart."

"Last time she asked me if I was constipated or if I always looked like that!" Sinn scowled at the memory and picked up his book again. "Face it, your sister has no control over her children, and _you're_ worse than useless."

"Oh go on, please come?" Mars wheedled, plucking his wet shirt away from his chest and eyeing it with distaste. "I came all the way back from Hogsmeade to ask you."

"Your fault, not mine." Sinn sniffed and flipped the book open, intent on picking up where he left off. "If you were stupid enough to comply with your sister's orders, then I have no sympathy for you." Ignoring the scowl his companion shot him, he began reading, immersing himself in the prose.

Mars sighed and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to one side. Picking up the old towel, he briskly rubbed himself dry then, conveniently forgetting Sinn's rule of 'Touch Anything And You Die', he threw open the cupboard and pulled out an old set of robes. Pulling them on over his head, he sighed again, this time in content, and sat back down, bare feet tucked up under him.

"Maple's gone to visit Kane," he said at length, when it became obvious that Sinn was going to continue ignoring him.

"Oh?" One black eyebrow arched in mild surprise, although Sinn kept his eyes on the book.

"Mm. Said she wanted to get the proper story, not the hyped up version reported by the _Prophet_. She never trusts newspapers, you know." Letting his body slip to one side, Mars folded his arms, leaning them on the side of the armchair so that he could study Sinn more easily. "Apparently she's convinced that, despite what that student has said, Kane wouldn't do something like that."

"Really." A noncommittal remark as dark eyes continued to skip lightly over the words.

Mars snorted in disgust, resting his chin on his folded arms. "Oh, you're no fun, Sinn. Where's your curiosity?"

"It's in bed, sleeping." Sinn's gaze didn't waver, but the other teacher caught the faint flicker of grin twisting the corner of lips. "And," he added with a pointed look at Mars, whose wet hair was thoughtfully dripping over the armchair and a rather expensive rug, "that's where I wish to go in a minute."

"You're too _young_ to be living this sixty year old lifestyle!" Mars complained, determined to get a rise out of his companion _somehow_. "What are you? An old bloke who takes anti-ageing potions?"

"I'm twenty seven as you damn well know." Giving up on the book, Sinn snapped it shut and set it to one side, a frown forming between his dark eyebrows. "Now stop picking on me and tell me why you _really_ came up here in the pouring rain. And no," he said sharply as Mars opened his mouth to interrupt, most probably to protest, "I know Annie sending you up here wasn't the real reason."

His friend sighed. "Damnit, Sinn. I think you know me too well."

"I should by now." Sinn's lips twitched again, but this time he let the expression blossom into a genuine smile. "I've known you near enough five years."

"Eurgh, the one person who will cotton on to all my terrible faults." Mars pulled a sour face then relented. "You're right, I didn't just come up here at Annie's behest." He paused, blue eyes thoughtful. "What do you think of Remus Lupin?"

"Remus?" Sinn's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "He seems nice enough. Rather quiet, but a good teacher from what I've heard the students saying about him. Why?"

"Well…doesn't he strike you as too young?"

"Oh, honestly, are we going to have _that_ particular argument again?"

"No, no." Mars raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "What I was going to say was that he seems…lonely, don't you think?"

"Lonely? I hadn't really noticed." Sinn pursed his lips thoughtfully and stood up, lazily flicking his wand towards a table on the fireside of the room, calling over two steaming cups of tea. "Although I suppose he must be. It's hard not having anyone your own age."

"Except the students."

"Mm." Handing one of the teacups to his friend, Sinn sat back down. "Well, why don't you invite him to dinner at Annie's as well?"

Mars – who had just taken a sip of tea – choked, spluttered then resorted to coughing loudly as he placed the mug on the ground, cheeks flushing as he struggled for breath. "Y-you want me to invite him to _Annie_'_s_?" He wheezed at length, still taking huge gulps of air as Sinn watched him calmly. "If that doesn't scar the poor kid for life, I don't know what would! Honestly, he'd think all teachers live with their mad sister, their mad sister's husband and their mad sister's four psychotic little brats!"

"Ah hah! Even you admit their brats!" Sinn exclaimed triumphantly. "But seriously," he continued, as Mars glared at him, his breathing slowly returning to normal, "why not? After all, he doesn't go anywhere at weekends, and it might be nice for him to get outside for a bit."

"Do I detect a charity case coming on?" Mars enquired dubiously.

"Not at all. I merely think it would be nice if Remus had some friends. Let's face facts Mars, the rest of the staff are much older – we're the only ones he'd have even a chance of becoming reasonably close to. Well, maybe not you…_old man_." Sinn smirked into his teacup as Mars spluttered furiously, his expression warring between indignant and somewhat amused.

"Old man? _Old man_? I'm not old! Twenty eight, I'll have you know!" Mars sniffed indignantly.

Sinn's brown eyes glittered with suppressed laughter, but he nodded solemnly. "Alright, not so old. But seriously, what do you think? Maybe you should ask Annie if you can invite Remus first."

"I don't need her permission," Mars said, sullenly – clearly still sulking. "It's my house as well."

"Then invite Remus. I think he'd appreciate the gesture." Sinn grimaced. "And maybe he'll be enough entertainment for those horrible children."

"Oh, I see, it _isn't_ a purely good willed act. You just want to sacrifice Lupin to save yourself." Blue eyes rested on Sinn's face thoughtfully, their gaze faintly teasing. "I never realised you were that selfish."

"Selfish? Me?" Sinn raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Well, I _was_ going to let you sleep here this evening, since I dreaded to think of you travelling back in that weather on that be-damned broomstick, but since you insulted me…" He scowled, looking down his nose at Mars, who had assumed one of the worst innocent expressions seen in Hogwarts in a long time – including Sirius Black's famous 'It Wasn't Me' look. It even outstripped James Potter's 'Me? _Honestly_ Professor! As If I Would!'

"Oh alright, alright," Sinn grumbled, sinking lower in the armchair and pointedly ignoring Mars's grateful look. "But don't think I'm giving up my bed for you. It's _your_ turn to sleep on the couch, since despite my protestations my own bedroom was taken over last time." He glared balefully at Mars, eyes slitted so that he resembled nothing so much as an angry cat, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Mars simply beamed at him, like a fallen angel.

AaAaAaAa

Frost lay thickly on the ground, cunningly disguised on pavements and settled over grass like snow. It turned flowers into frail, brittle ice sculptures, and decorated trees, making them look as though they had been dusted with icing sugar. It was so cold that clouds of steam hung in front of people's faces as they breathed, and the students of Hogwarts were bundled up tightly in thick winter cloaks, hats, gloves and scarves.

Sinn picked his way delicately across the path that led to Rose Cottage, successfully avoiding the slippery patches, discarded balls and one solitary trainer that was lying, for no apparent reason, by the gate. Sidestepping a large shrub that reached across the path to grab his ankle, he paused and turned to look back at Remus, who was struggling to navigate the same passage and failing miserably.

"You ok?"

"Fine." Remus's breath was coming in quiet gasps as he discovered that walking across icy ground was not as easy as his colleague made it out to be. He paused, watching as Sinn rapped sharply on the front door of the Cottage – which, despite its name, was a large, sprawling house set just outside the village of Hogsmeade. Gritting his teeth, Remus dodged the trainer and had just reached the first step leading up to the door, when it flew open, revealing a girl of about fourteen with thick blonde hair.

She blinked at Sinn then grinned, revealing a fascinating display of multi-coloured teeth, before she wiped her hands on the front of her grubby t-shirt. Throwing her head back and not bothering to close the door first, she howled: "MUUUUUUUUUUM! THE VAMPIRE'S HERE!" Smiling wickedly, she stepped aside as a muffled, answering shout resounded from inside. Gesturing for Remus and Sinn to enter, she ushered them into a light, warm hallway, then strode off, pausing only to tell them to shut the door.

"Janie, Mars's oldest niece," Sinn muttered under his breath to Remus, who blinked, slightly nonplussed and more than a little nervous.

"Right…er. What happened to her teeth?"

"No idea, we'll probably find out later." Grimacing, Sinn peeled off his scarf just as a small, chubby figure came barrelling down the stairs that ended at the other end of the hall. Pausing, it stuck its thumb in its mouth and regarded them both solemnly.

"Ooh a ooh?"

"Take your thumb out of your mouth, Marta, you're not five any more," Sinn said wearily, taking Remus's coat from him and hanging it on a peg. "And you know perfectly well who I am. This is Mr Lupin, though, and he's come for dinner with me."

The child sniffed disapprovingly as both men walked towards her. Scowling, she held out her plump arms to Sinn, sticky face raised demandingly. "Kith, pleathe."

"And don't lisp either, it's not cute, it's irritating," Sinn scolded, but complied nonetheless, picking the small girl up and carrying her towards the kitchen.

Remus trailed after him, feeling remarkably like a third wheel. Mars had approached him yesterday about coming to Hogsmeade for dinner with his family and, at the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Wanting to escape the castle grounds for a while, and fearful to do so lest he encounter Sirius, he had been contemplating a weekend alone. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.

Sinn seemed to know the family remarkably well and despite his sour comments on the way down, he obviously held some kind of affection for them. Seeing this just made Remus feel worse, however, because he knew nobody, really, and the closeness of this odd family and one of his work colleagues made him feel ill at ease. Perhaps, he reasoned, as Sinn pushed open a door and preceded him into a large, warm kitchen filled with fragrant smells, this is what his life would be like in several years time. He would live at Hogwarts, but know people within the village – families – a life that he could never have, only experience as an outsider.

Sinn had deposited Marta on the kitchen table and was talking to a tall, serious looking man in one corner of the room. By the huge old-fashioned kitchen range, two twin boys were playing exploding snap and trying their best to trip up Mars, who had been forced into making a salad to go with the meal. To Mars's right a tall, dark haired woman was handling pots with quick efficiency and scolding the boys in between.

"Honestly 'Meade, can't you two go and play in the sitting room? You're getting under my feet. Look! You nearly tripped your uncle up! Get out of here! Now!" Flapping a tea towel at them, she waited until they had fled the room before turning to Remus, a smile gracing her face. "Oh, hello, sorry I didn't introduce myself. Annie Fogarty-Davies." Wiping a flour-streaked hand on her apron, she held it out, beaming as Remus shook it. "Sinn and Mars have told me all about you," she continued, turning back to the oven, stirring frantically. "I must say it's nice to meet you at last."

"Annie," Sinn called from where he was talking to the tall man, "make sure Mars isn't eating the tomatoes."

Mars, who was doing just that, swallowed quickly and glared at Sinn as Annie scolded him, turning her attention away from Remus in favour of removing the salad from harm's way. Left to his own devices, Remus stood at the edge of the kitchen and swallowed nervously. He was not normally so worried about meeting new people, but this family just seemed so… comfortable with one another. Even Sinn, who was trying to pry Marta from his leg, was smiling.

"Are you a ghost?" An enquiring voice sounded out of nowhere, making Remus jump in surprise. Looking down, he caught the level gaze of one of the twin boys, who folded his arms defiantly across his chest and repeated the question.

"No, I'm not a ghost." Remus felt himself smiling, in spite of his awkwardness. "If I were, you'd be able to see through me, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe…but maybe you're a _special_ ghost." The boy looked disbelieving. "Maybe we can't see through you because of that."

"But I'm not a ghost."

"But we wouldn't be able to tell, and you _are_ awfully pale…even paler 'n the vampire." The boy jerked his head at Sinn.

Remus blinked, unsure whether this was meant to be a warped kind of compliment, or merely proof of his undead state. "Really. Well I can assure you, I'm quite solid." He held out a hand to the boy, who poked it dubiously. "See? Solid. Not a ghost I'm afraid."

"Hm." The boy glared at him disapprovingly. "Would have been better if you were a ghost." He brightened, suddenly. "We have a ghost in the attic. Grandma Bea – she makes an awful lot of noise at night sometimes. Wailing and carrying on. Me 'n Pol went up there once to ask her why. _She_ said it was because she'd been told that that's what ghosts were supposed to do. But Pol talked her into not wailing _quite_ so loud on weeknights." He smiled, proudly. "That's because we have school and need our rest."

Remus was saved from answering this little lecture, however, by a loud explosion from the sitting room, followed by a loud stream of curses in a high pitched, childish voice.

"POL!" Annie bellowed, wheeling and striding across the kitchen floor. "YOU WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!" She stormed out of the room, leaving Mars in charge of watching the boiling carrots.

"Come outside," the young boy pleaded suddenly, as Remus stared after Annie, his expression surprised. "I'll show you the garden."

"I'd go with him," the tall man interjected. "He can be quite stubborn when he takes a liking to someone, and he seems to like you." He smiled as the boy grinned, clearly delighted. "Just make sure you don't get grubby before dinner, 'Meade," he added, and his son nodded fervently.

"Come on, come on." Tugging on Remus's hand, 'Meade pulled the protesting werewolf back down the hallway and out the front door. "I'll show you me and Pol's hideout," he promised, kicking the trainer off the step and slamming the front door of Rose Cottage behind him. "It's wicked. It's all hidden so that Janie and Marta can't find it." He beamed up at Remus, even as Annie's shouting floated outside. "Come on," he repeated, glancing warily over one shoulder. "Before mum decides I had something to do with it."

"To do with what?" Remus asked, amused.

"Oh…nothing." 'Meade's gaze slid away. "Pol…er…never mind." He smiled, innocently. "Ask me another question instead, one that I can answer. Is that a fair trade?"

"It is." Remus smiled as he was led across the whitened lawn. "Alright…hmm. Why do you call Sinn a vampire?"

"Oh that's _easy_," 'Meade said scornfully, tugging aside some bushes near the front of the garden. "Janie started that. She said it was because his face was so pale, his hair was so black and he never looks any older. It's not the truth, it's just a nick knack."

"Nickname," Remus corrected him gently, then crouched down as 'Meade crawled into the bushes before turning and peering back at him.

"Yeah, that. Now see, through here is our den. Only you _can't tell anyone_. Got it?"

"Got it."

Out here in the fresh air, with a small inquisitive boy who in no way had an adult-like attitude, Remus was beginning to feel more at ease. It was clear, even to him, that he got along with 'Meade and that the boy was clearly fascinated by the concept of an adult who didn't talk down to him. Taking a deep lungful of cool winter air, Remus grinned as 'Meade crawled back out of the bushes, bringing with him a magical catapult that his mother didn't know he had.

Laughing, Remus promised not to tell Annie and 'Meade, satisfied, stowed the catapult back amongst the bushes. Feeling like nothing could spoil his good mood, the young teacher stood up, wincing as his back muscles protested loudly – having been in one position for too long. Despite that, however, he felt that nothing could ruin his sudden good mood.

"Professor?"

Except that.

Swallowing, Remus peered over the bushes and came face to face with Sirius, Peter and James. All three students were bundled up in thick winter cloaks emblazoned with the school crest. James had a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck and Peter was nearly hidden by a large woollen hat. Only Sirius had made no concessions to the cold and stood, quite comfortably, his hands in his pockets.

His cheeks red with cold and his hair trailing loose about his shoulders, he grinned at Remus, tentatively.

"Hello, Professor."

'Meade stuck his head over the hedge, safe in the knowledge that if he was rude to these large boys, he had the option of beating a hasty retreat behind his newfound friend's legs, or simply fleeing back to the relative safety of the house.

"Who're you?" he demanded, staring wide-eyed at James, who grinned and stuck his tongue out.

"These are my students," Remus said gently, before any of the boys could answer. "And to be honest I'm quite surprised that they are this far outside of Hogsmeade." He smiled politely as Sirius watched him, grey eyes wide and fixed. "I suppose there _is_ a perfectly good reason?" He raised an eyebrow and watched as what could be seen of Peter under the large hat, flushed guiltily.

"We were just going to look at the Shrieking Shack," Sirius said, a little quickly. "We heard there's been a lot of activity there recently."

The world seemed to slow for a heartbeat as Remus turned haunted eyes on his student. '_He can't know,_' he thought, even as a fear began to trickle slowly down his spine. '_He can't, he can't, he can't…It's not possible. I've been so careful, I've told nobody. But he's smart. He could work it out._' Guiltily, he looked at Sirius's face, which was calm, innocent. '_No,_' Remus realised, nearly crying with relief. '_He has no idea who…_what_ I am._'

"Well," James cleared his throat. "See you later then, Professor."

"What? Oh, yes." Remus smiled weakly and turned to 'Meade. "I think it's about time we went back inside. Your mother will blame me if we're late for dinner." He smiled as 'Meade grinned, then winced as the small boy placed his mud-encrusted hand against his neat robes, using them to tug him back along the path towards the house.

AaAaAaAa

Sirius watched as Remus was towed away by the noisy child. Swallowing, he ignored the bittersweet image it presented, and instead focused on letting the jealousy build in his heart. What was Remus doing at this house? Why did he know the kid so well? Was there something going on between the young teacher and, perhaps, the woman who lived here? Letting out a hissing breath from between his teeth, he forced the irrational emotion away as well, concentrating instead on Peter, who was struggling to remain upright thanks to a patch of ice.

"Surprise seeing Professor Lupin," James commented as they moved off, towards the Shrieking Shack. "I didn't think he knew anyone here."

"No," Sirius tilted his head back to look at the grey sky. "I suppose he's been making friends in the village."

Well that's a good thing," Peter commented cheerfully from under his layers of clothing, "he doesn't seem the type to be very…outgoing. Maybe now he's got some friends he won't devote his whole attention to his students." He didn't remark that it would also take him away from Sirius and the potential trouble he represented. Peter may have been many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He, unlike James, realised that Lupin was becoming a touchy subject and that for the sake of everyone's sanity it would be wise to steer clear of the topic.

"Yes, a good thing," Sirius echoed, although he looked dubious as he glanced at James, who shrugged, drawing his own cloak tighter around his body.

"Look on the positive side, Sear," James said eventually as they approached the Shack, "at least we know he hasn't gone running to Dumbledore. Looks like he's been too busy. All the same…" he paused, looking thoughtful, "it was a pretty tense moment, wasn't it?" He grabbed Peter's arm as the shorter boy skidded on a patch of ice. Steadying him, he glanced up at Sirius, who was watching him thoughtfully.

"I think," the dark haired boy said thoughtfully, "it might be wise to call the whole bet off."

James raised an eyebrow. "Why? Know you'll lose?"

"You wish, Potter. No, you just said yourself – it's getting too risky." Sirius folded his arms. "I'll pay you the money if you like, but I am _not_ going to run the risk of being expelled – not with the music competition coming up. And," he slitted his eyes, peering towards the Shack, "because I don't think I could take living with my family every day of the year. I just about survive holidays." His smile was sharp and brittle and James, sensing a delicate matter, simply sniffed disapprovingly and held out his hand.

"Quits," he said, as Peter fidgeted nearby.

Sirius turned, looking at him, his expression at once surprised and grateful. "Alright, Potter. Quits." Grabbing James's hand, he pulled his friend into a rough hug, them released him, ignoring the amused grin Peter shot him. Clearing his throat, he folded his arms again and changed the topic as rapidly as he could. "So, think any of the Slytherins have got the musical potential to steal the show from us Gryffindors?"

"Hardly," Peter said, as they began to walk again. "They've only got Lestrange – he's the only one in the whole House who plays an instrument." Both James and Sirius shot him a curious look, so he shrugged. "He plays the piano," he said. "He used to have the same teacher as me, so our lessons used to be around the same time." He snorted in disgust. "He wasn't very good."

Sirius grinned. "So we're all shoo-ins, then? Which reminds me…" he glared at Peter. "Why didn't _you_ audition? You were bloody amazing on that piano, and yet you only agreed to help _me_ audition after I'd nagged you into submission."

"Unlike some people I could mention, Sirius," Peter said cheerfully, "I have no wish to make a fool of myself in front of the entire school."

James laughed as Sirius huffed indignantly, drawing himself up to his full height. "Fool? _Fool_? I _never_ make a fool of myself, Peter Frederick Matthew Pettigrew! I am _artiste_ – something you common folk wouldn't understand!" Relaxing, he grinned. "And say that again and you'll be waking up with fetching pink hair one morning."

"You wouldn't dare!" Peter spluttered.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Sirius raised on arched black eyebrow as they drew to a halt in front of the Shrieking Shack.

James studied the building dubiously. "It's a bit of a dump," he said at last. "And not very impressive. Are you _sure_ people keep saying they've heard noises from it?" He looked at Sirius, who nodded. "I mean," he continued, "you'd think if it was haunted it would look more…spooky. It's not very atmospheric." He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and shuffled a little closer.

"I don't know, I think it looks a little spooky." Sirius stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed James, tilting his head back to stare up at the Shack's rickety roof and broken windows.

"Spooky? It just looks like a glorified garden shed!" James scoffed, clearly not impressed. "_And_ you can't even see inside," he added, trying to peer through one of the downstairs windows.

Sirius didn't reply. Instead, he stepped up to the building, a frown forming on his face, as he looked hard at the old walls. Reaching out, hesitantly, he placed his hand against the windowpane, rubbing some of the dirt and grime away with his fingers – smudging, rather than removing, the dust. Leaning closer, he peered through the small streak of cleaner glass, grey eyes intent.

It was difficult to make out much in the room beyond, but he saw that what little furniture there was had been smashed and lay, broken and forgotten on the floor. The walls appeared streaked, and it took him a moment to realise that the streaks were, in fact, places were the walls had been damaged and newer material was showing through from where the old wood and bricks had been ripped away. The whole place seemed thick and heavy with dust, which was only disturbed here and there by long, broad patches of dark flooring that looked as though they had been wipe clean.

"See anything interesting?" James's voice sounded just behind him, and he stepped back reluctantly.

"Not a lot." Sirius glanced at his friends, but his eyes were inevitably drawn back towards the window, which gaped like a hole in the side of the building. "Lots of debris and a load of dust." He frowned, half fascinated, half repelled by the place. "No ghosts though, and I certainly wouldn't imagine that spirits could smash furniture. If you want my guess, it's that a couple of kids have come down here, made noise and several superstitious locals have thought it was something supernatural."

"I don't know," Peter said, hesitantly stepping nearer. "Everyone I've spoken to seems pretty sure that it's haunted."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe. But I still say it's not ghosts, whatever else it may be."

"Come on," James nudged him. "Lets go back to the Three Broomsticks. I'm freezing and I want a Butterbeer. Peter's paying," he added, as they started to walk back towards the village of Hogsmeade.

Blocking out Peter's furious protests and James's laughter, Sirius paused looking back at the Shrieking Shack. It stood, large and immobile against the skyline, its windows looking like black, empty eyes that watched them go.

AaAaAaAa

"So," Mars said around a mouthful of salad, "the _Prophet_'s got the details wrong yet again." He snorted and passed the plate of turkey over to Marta, who giggled and speared a piece with her fork.

"How so?" Sinn looked up from his dinner, eyebrows raised.

"Kane's _not_ going to Azkaban." Mars bit emphatically into a tomato then waved his fork to emphasise his point. "Remember I told you Maple was going to visit him? Well, apparently that was all publicity hype. He _has_ got five years, but it's only in the Ministry itself. He's staying in one of the cells under the courtroom. Apparently, it's not that bad. Maple told me he even had a window. Couldn't see much, what with it being underground and everything, but apparently they set it up so that he had some scenery to look at."

"Oh," Annie smiled. "That's good news – a much better sentence. I always did like Kane – he used to work down the pub on Saturdays to earn some extra money." She sighed, looking relieved. "I _am_ glad he's not going to a real prison."

"It's still a prison, no matter what name you give it," Sinn said quietly. "He's still locked up. Granted, it isn't with the Dementors, but even so – the poor man's going to be trapped underground for five years. Imagine what that's going to do to him." He glanced at Mars, who bit his lip, looking thoughtful.

"I have to agree." Remus spoke up, suddenly, and all eyes at the table turned to look at him. He smiled, nodding towards Sinn. "This teacher is trapped. Eventually, that cell will become his own personal hell, with or without the influence of creatures such as Dementors. To imprison someone's body is to imprison their mind, and vice versa." He coughed, awkwardly, hoping that nothing showed on his face but mild concern.

"Mm," Mars pulled a face at one of the twin boys, who giggled, stuffing an enormous amount of bread into his mouth in one go.

"Apollo…" Annie said warningly, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

The boy smiled, sheepishly, and bent his head closer to his twin's. Whispers began to emanate from their side of the room, broken by a loud exclamation of "_Pol_!" from 'Meade and a few giggles. Remus watched the two boys, amused. He was struck by the similarities between the two children and several of his older students – it seemed strange that eight year olds could have so much in common with those much older than themselves. Still, he thought, as Janie nudged Mars to get his attention, they didn't seem half as troublesome as…

He cut the thought off quickly, gritting his teeth in irritation.

"…Severus Snape," Sinn said, and Remus jumped, realising he'd missed half of the conversation.

"I honestly think he's incredibly intelligent," Mars said, "but he's sometimes too…ah…_enquiring_ for his own good."

"You mean nosy," Annie said, bluntly.

"You always did have a way with words, sister mine."

Their hostess smiled and turned to cut Marta's vegetables for her, leaving Sinn to resume his previous point.

"I know he's intelligent, and I know he's enquiring, but what I don't understand is why a boy like that can't get on with his peers." He frowned, spearing a carrot with his fork. "I mean, he doesn't even appear to have friends amongst the Slytherins. And I would at least have thought he'd have known some of the other purebloods from before his time at Hogwarts. But no, he simply seems…isolated."

"Well, he's not the most pleasant of people," Mars said philosophically.

"Maybe not, but I believe that everyone has one true friend. Someone who suits their personality perfectly. I would have thought Severus would be no exception."

"Oh, and you're an expect on true friendship?" Mars queried, delicately slicing a sprout, then crunching it between strong, white teeth.

Sinn shot him a pointed look.

"Oh, fine," the sports teacher grumbled. "But really, you _cannot_ deny that it's probably his generally nasty attitude, more than anything, that turns people against him."

"Potter makes his life a living hell," Sinn pointed out.

"True. So does Black." Mars shrugged. "I'm surprised those two don't get along, actually. Snape and Black are remarkably similar in many respects." He grinned. "They're both arrogant little pri –"

"MARS!" Annie's voice cut across the conversation and her brother jumped, looking guilty. "_Not_ in front of the children, if you please."

Remus stared hard at his nearly empty plate, only half listening as 'Meade, Marta and Pol clamoured to hear what their uncle had been about to say. His dinner churned uneasily in his stomach and he rubbed his forehead in frustration, fighting against the range of emotions that threatened to surge over him. Everything always seemed to come back to Sirius, no matter how hard he tried to escape it. Even here, amongst these friendly, open people, Sirius's presence seemed to hover like a ghost – pale, distant, but watching with reproachful eyes. Eyes that, Remus admitted, had begun to turn cold whenever they looked at him now.

He shivered, swallowed, then nodded when Annie offered him pudding.

AaAaAaAa

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was warm in the watery afternoon sunshine. Dust motes danced within the sunbeams that fell across the floor, sparking as they swirled in the air currents and the room was filled with a warm, sleepy glow that only heightened the lazy hush that had descended in the late winter afternoon.

Remus was standing at the front of the room, writing notes on the blackboard – dictating as he did so. The chalk squeaked across the board whenever he pressed too firmly, and the sound of rustling parchment and quills only served to enhance the otherwise silent atmosphere of the room. Shifting, the young teacher moved back to the other end of the board to begin a new line, oblivious to the scrutiny he was under.

Sirius watched him from under lowered lashes, his chin cupped in his hands. Next to him, Peter was frantically copying the notes, and James was composing a love letter to Lily, his lips moving as he framed the words he was – badly – trying to express. The sunlight was hot on the back of the black haired boy's neck, making a light sheen of sweat break out across his forehead and upper lip. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back and was mildly surprised that a castle could be so warm in the middle of winter.

Running a hand through his hair, Sirius leant back in his chair, gaze still fixed on Remus. James had called the bet off – there was now no reason to go near the teacher. No point, either, and he was therefore confused by some instinct that kept pushing, goading and nagging him into trying to seek out the young Professor. Sirius frowned, absently fiddling with his quill as he stared hard at Remus's back, half wanting the teacher to turn around and catch him looking.

"Wake up," James hissed, as Remus turned around, explaining something to one of the confused students sitting on the front row. "He'll be asking us questions in a minute." Leaning over, he grabbed Peter's notes, ignoring a mild protest, and shoved them in front of Sirius. "Here, quick. Look at these and tell me you understand them. If not, start praying he doesn't pick you."

_The festivals observed by dark creatures and those with dark magic_. Sirius groaned, quietly, as he began to scan Peter's notes, cursing himself for not paying more attention to the lesson. Repentance, however, did not seem to suffice, as Remus finished explaining the problem to the pupil in front and turned to look at the rest of the class, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Now you've all taken the notes down," he said pleasantly, "shall we see how much you've absorbed?"

"Nononononono," James was muttering under his breath. "Let's not. Let's have an early lunch break instead. Let's all go home for the term and never come back. Anything. Let's just _not_ get asked questions."

Lily, who had overheard him, shook her head in exasperation. "Do you ever learn, Potter?" She whispered as James closed his eyes, lips moving in a fervent prayer to any deity who happened to be listening in. "It'll serve you right if he asks you."

"Can anyone tell me," Remus was saying, "what the festival of Dionysus is, and which magical creature or persons takes part in it." He scanned the room, smiling at the forest of hands that had shot up, and picked at random. "Miss Kiel."

"The festival of Dionysus," the girl answered promptly, "is a holiday usually celebrated by Greek creatures known as Maenads. Maenads inspire madness in mortals and on the festival night, they sacrifice a human woman to the god. They also re-enact plays and dance naked in the woods during this festival period."

"Very good." Remus smiled. "Five points to Slytherin, I think." There was a discontented murmur from the Gryffindors, but no outright hostility.

"Come on Lily," James hissed at his girlfriend, "you can beat some Slytherin bint. Answer a question!"

"Why don't you?" She shot back.

"Because I haven't been paying attention!"

"Why don't you two –" Sirius began, then closed his mouth so fast that his teeth clicked as Remus turned to look at him.

"Mr Black. Would you be so kind as to tell us from which ancient culture the festival of Lupercalia originated?" The teacher's eyes, normally so calm and placid, had turned cold, and Sirius felt as though someone had trailed an icy finger down his spine. Swallowing, he forced himself to meet Remus's gaze, trying to ignore the mental chant that was running through his head.

'He hates me hatesmehatesmehatesme…' Gritting his teeth and wondering why the thought made his chest tighten painfully, he looked desperately towards Peter for help. His friend mouthed something then, realising this wasn't working, mimed rowing a boat. Sirius frowned as Peter then pointed to himself. 'Rowing…boy…no. Rowing…man. Row…man. Roman!' Shooting his friend a grateful look, he raised his chin defiantly and stared at Remus, willing his thoughts to remain hidden behind his eyes. 

"The Romans. _Sir_."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor." Remus looked as though every word was causing him pain, and he turned away abruptly, but not before Sirius noticed that he had gone incredibly pale and that he was biting his lip, just slightly.

_'What,_' he wondered, as Remus pointed at Peter and asked him a similar question, _'has got him so worked up?_'

AaAaAaAa

Snape huddled further into his cloak as he crossed the courtyard, heading back towards the warmth of Hogwarts' main hall.

Nearly tripping over the small fountain in one corner of the courtyard, he cursed softly, then froze, dark eyes blinking into the blackness as he caught sight of a shadowy figure slipping across the open space and coming to a stop no more than ten feet from him. Huddling back into the shadows, in case it was a teacher, he watched as the figure hesitated, then tilted its head up, eyes fixed on a second storey window, which was lit up with the warm glow of a lamp.

Snape nearly hissed again as he saw that the figure was none other than Sirius Black.

Raising his own eyes to the window, curious as to what had made Black pause at this particular point, he caught sight of a boy moving across the upstairs room. He wore no robe and his shirt was undone, hanging loosely from his shoulders. His light hair was rumpled, and it was clear he was readying himself for bed. As the boy turned, his face became clear for a moment, and Snape blinked in silent surprise. The 'boy' was none other than Professor Lupin. Frowning, Snape edged a little nearer to Sirius, relaxing when he realised that Black was oblivious to the world.

_'What_,' he wondered as he watched Black's eyes follow Lupin's every movement, _'is this…this…_thing_ doing out here at this time of night?_' He frowned as Sirius bit his lip, then turned his gaze back to the window. Lupin had taken his shirt off, absently flinging it over the back of a chair that rested by the window. Unselfconsciously, he paused to look out into the night, and Snape saw with some surprise that various scars criss-crossed his chest and shoulders.

He stared, frowning, as his mind tried to recall some half-known piece of information, but was startled from thought when Black let out a small gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. Looking first at his fellow student, then up at Lupin, Snape saw his teacher's mouth drop open in surprise as his gaze fixed on Sirius. There was a long, electric pause, and Snape, fascinated, saw Lupin's expression change from one of shock, to something else.

Turning, he was just in time to dart back into the shadows as Sirius spun on his heel and fled.

As he watched Black disappear in a flurry of robes and long hair, Snape felt a smile beginning to curve his lips. Here, at last, was something that could be used against Sirius Black, one way or another. Taking one final glance up at Lupin, he was surprised to see the man still staring off in the direction Sirius had fled, his expression a strange mixture of longing and fear. Shrugging, Snape slid back the way he had come, and hurried off in the opposite direction, resigning himself to taking the longer route, even as his mind whirled with happy thoughts and images of Black finally getting his comeuppance.

Sirius Black and Professor Lupin. The irony of the situation delighted him, and he hugged the secret close to himself, enjoying it as he shoved his way into the Slytherin common room.

It would only be a matter of time before they were discovered, and Snape couldn't _wait_ to see what would happen then.

_To Be Continued…_

**CB:** I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and as a (sort of) Christmas present to you all, if you want me to write you a little mini-fic, just say so in your review (and what you'd like in the fic) and I'll let you know when I post it on my Livejournal.


	9. Chapter Nine

**CB:** My apologies for not updating sooner, but work has interfered. I want to thank you all very, very much for your patience and, as usual, oodles of love go to:

padprongs, mistressKC, Jan, MyOwnShukuun, Fenice, SiriuslyRJL, EsScaper, Racslwt, lost and by the wind grieved, Emily, Skeet, Drunken Goddess, bound, starfire2222, Hannio, shady gurl, Elwen of Imladris, Sohalia Talitha, Ayakaishi Fei, kana, Sakura of the HP World, O.S. Acious, Tainted Halo, Satan's Advocate, Gray Wings, penny, MimiRose113,Hisui Kuragari, Crowley Black, Ash of Mine, Obviously Oblivious, Tanya J Potter, Chibi-Alania, Anita, MooseDeEvita, IsisFireDancer, Goddess of the sacred river, Hell's Angel- Heaven's Demon, Shiny Ryuichi Sakuma, Celeb-Draug04, Becca, shini, Lunaris, Lyth Taeraneth, Forki, empath89, Lhune, Dawn Aurilain, Tenebra Corvus, billytalent, Mysterious blue eyes, Big Bad Titou Moony, Lover not a fighter, kinkydoomhobbit, LBx, cindered-hope, RoschLupin-Black, Wan wingu no tenshi, The Syrin Songstress, BohemiaLMM, LunasStar, Shadow Cat17, SiriusMoonPuppy, Queen of the Paperclips, driven to insanity, squiddie, Kiddie-knitknack, Real-fan05.

'_So as the waves make towards the pebbled shore_

_So do our minutes hasten to their end;_

_Each changing place with that which goes before,_

_In sequent toil all forwards do contend…_'

**W. Shakespeare  
**

"Snape," Sirius said with slow, calculated venom, "is watching me." He hissed through his teeth and savagely dug the point of his quill into the desk top, staining the wood with black ink.

James shrugged. "So watch back," he said amiably. "Maybe he's just trying to catch you doing something wrong – not a difficult thing, I must admit."

Sirius snarled and abandoned the quill, which had snapped neatly in two. "It's not that, he just keeps _staring_ at me. And smirking. It's almost like he knows something I don't and he wants to see the shock on my face when I'm told about it." He shot a dark look across the classroom, to where the Slytherin was lounging in his seat, a smug expression gracing his features.

"Now you're being paranoid," James said bluntly, nudging Peter in the ribs with his elbow. "Pete, tell him he's being paranoid."

Peter opened his mouth to do just this, saw Sirius's expression, hesitated, and thought better of it. He shut his mouth again with a snap, and sank lower in his seat, trying not to attract the dark haired boy's attention. Sirius looked, for want of a better word, _murderous_, and Peter suddenly thought it would be prudent to pretend to be very busy very quickly. Better to be far, far away when Sirius exploded, he reasoned, than dead.

"This lesson is pointless." James, apparently, had finally noticed Sirius's bad mood and changed the subject with his usual lack of tact. "All we're doing is copying Lupin's notes off the board at the moment. Why can't we do something exciting, like duelling?" He sniffed disapprovingly and leant back in his chair, rocking it onto its back legs.

"Possibly because they don't want seventh years murdering each other during school hours?" Peter suggested dryly, absently sketching a little sulking stick Sirius in the corner of his parchment. "We _have_ been paired with the Slytherins, after all."

"Speaking of Slytherins," Sirius said suddenly, shaking off his bad mood and sitting bolt upright in his chair, "Lestrange tried to hex me yesterday!" He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Apparently someone let slip that I was going to be competing against him in the music competition." He smirked and flicked the end of his broken quill. "I heard you were next on their hit list, Potter."

"Me?" James blinked then shoved his glasses back up his nose as they slid down. "We all know I sound like the croaking toad chorus, why would they even _need_ to sabotage me?"

"You're good," Sirius said solemnly.

"Too good," Peter added, a small smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "Too good for this world, in fact. So the Slytherins are going to take the liberty of removing you from it."

"Bah." James drummed his fingers on the desk and shot an evil look at several Slytherins, who were sitting on the other side of the room. "I'd like to see them try."

"So would I," Sirius said fervently. "It'd be wonderful blackmail material to see you hanging upside down from the Astronomy Tower by your underpants."

James paled. "They wouldn't!"

"They would," Peter assured him.

"Peter's right," Sirius agreed cheerfully.

"Well how did _you_ escape from them, then?" James demanded. "Lestrange is faster than you, so you can't have outrun him, and he's better than you at curses, so you wouldn't have stood a chance against him in a duel."

"I got down on my knees and sobbed like a girl," Sirius said without a hint of remorse in his voice. "I even begged him and promised to pay him my next twenty galleons if he'd spare me." He smiled happily at the memory.

"Did you?" Peter stared at him in surprise.

"Mmhm. And then when he hesitated I bit his kneecaps." Sirius's expression dropped from amusement into pure wickedness. "Of course he screamed a bit, but that's only to be expected. Unfortunately he had the presence of mind to kick me – once he'd got over the pain, of course. _That_ was when I fled, having disabled him so that he couldn't chase me." He pulled a face. "Let me tell you, though, Slytherin blood tastes nasty."

"You bit _through_ his robe?" James asked in disbelief.

"Yep. It was one of those custom made ones, so the material isn't as thick."

"Once again, Sirius's strange fashion knowledge saves him from certain death," Peter said, shaking his head. "Of all the people I know, I'd only ever believe this story when it's coming from you, Sear."

"I choose to take that – "

"SIT DOWN AND SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The door to the classroom flew open, hitting the far wall with an almighty bang and rebounding towards the teacher who had just strode in. Twenty-three pairs of shocked eyes turned towards him, and he grinned, charmingly, tightening his ponytail before striding across to the desk and settling on the edge.

"That got your attention," he said amiably.

In the stunned silence that followed, there was the sound of brisk footsteps walking down the corridor, and Sinn swept into the room, a textbook under one arm. Pausing just inside the door, his gaze took in the class for a moment, before he nodded and placed the book on the desk to the right of Mars.

"Good morning, class. I will be taking this lesson this morning, since Professor Lupin is ill. Professor Fogarty has kindly agreed to assist me, as my knowledge of Defence Against the Dark Arts is not as good as it should be. Hopefully we'll be able to remedy that during this mornings lesson." He smiled briefly, then perched on the edge of the desk, next to Mars, who shuffled over a bit to allow him some room.

"Right," the sports teacher said cheerfully, continuing where Sinn had left off. "What have you been up to in these lessons so far?"

There was a quiet buzz as people muttered to one another and Sinn tapped his fingers against his knee impatiently, his young face betraying a hint of impatience. "Come on, come on, it isn't difficult," he snapped. "You must remember _something_."

Mars rolled his eyes and leant over to whisper to his colleague, his lips almost brushing Sinn's ear. James, Sirius and Peter, who were all sitting two rows back, watched curiously as Sinn pursed his lips, a faint blush staining his cheeks as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Two galleons says Mars is yelling at him," James muttered.

"He's not yelling, he's whispering," Peter pointed out reasonably.

"Yeah? Well I bet he's having a go at him nonetheless. Professor Sinn always was impatient, wasn't he?"

"I suppose it's what comes of being able to see into the future," Peter replied comfortably, settling back as Lily finally began outlining what they had covered in class.

Sirius ignored his two friends, opting to frown at the top of the desk instead. Professor Lupin was ill. Again. Ruthlessly squashing the flash of concern that flickered through him, Sirius wondered briefly whether the illness was the same as last time. He scowled and tapped the end of his broken quill thoughtfully against his bottom lip, forgetting for the moment that he'd snapped it in two.

In fact, if memory served him correctly, Lupin had been ill around this time _last_ month as well. Something at the back of Sirius's mind began to take shape, but before he could piece together exactly what it was, James nudged him in the side.

"Snape's looking at you again," he said under his breath.

Sirius glanced sharply to his right, just in time to catch Snape's gaze. The Slytherin paused for a moment, before a nasty smile crossed his lips and he turned away. Sirius frowned again. Snape was up to something, he was sure of it, and it obviously involved him, somehow. The smug expression on the other pupil's face implied that whatever it was, Sirius was _not_ going to be amused.

Sniffing in disgust, he turned his attention back to the lesson, just in time to catch Mars watching him – his gaze suspicious.

Sirius sighed. It simply wasn't going to be his morning.

AaAaAaAa

A month and a half later, as he was sitting at his desk, Remus Lupin realised that he hadn't got his mother a Christmas present.

Cursing under his breath, he shoved several books to one side and rested his chin on his hands, gazing gloomily out of the window. Teaching, it seemed, had finally taken over his life completely, and with the end of term only two weeks away, it was evident that he'd have to come up with an idea very quickly if he didn't want his only family to be horribly disappointed on Christmas morning.

Remus sighed and fiddled absently with a stray thread in his robes. Perhaps he could ask Sinn or Mars for help – both of them seemed to have the same kind of taste as him, and if the three of them went shopping, it might make his task a little easier. It would also mean, a small voice at the back of his head commented, that should he run into Sirius, he would be well equipped with other people, which would stall any embarrassing conversations.

Not that Sirius had actually spoken to him, lately. In fact, the student seemed remarkably withdrawn, something – Professor Maple assured him – that could only mean he was plotting. Remus, however, had his doubts. The dark haired boy had been distant, almost cold whenever Remus spoke to him, and he had refused to meet his eyes in class. _Perhaps_, he thought hopefully, _Sirius has finally got over his…his…infatuation._ He carefully didn't think of the small spark of something remarkably like pain that that thought caused.

Resolving not to think about Sirius any longer, he pushed back his chair and headed off to find Sinn and Mars in the staff room. Discovering they weren't there, he followed Flitwick's suggestion and tried Sinn's study, which resided at the top of one of the many school towers. Lost in his own thoughts of Christmas presents and marking, he didn't bother to knock on the study door; instead he simply pushed it open and wandered in.

For a moment, he thought nobody was there, and he was just turning to leave when the soft sound of someone shifting made him take a closer look.

A dark head was just visible over the back of the sofa, its black hair gleaming in the firelight. Remus recognised it as Sinn and took a couple of hesitant steps over to see if he was disturbing him. As he moved around to the front, of the sofa, his back to the fire, he noticed Sinn was sitting with his head bent, looking at something in his lap. Remus followed his gaze and blinked in surprise.

Mars was lying, fast asleep, with his head on Sinn's knees. His mouth was slightly open and his long, lean body was curled awkwardly into the remaining space on the piece of furniture. His long blond hair was falling out of its normal ponytail to hang messily around his face and he wore no robes, only a worn pair of trousers and a rumpled t-shirt.

As Remus watched, he noticed Sinn's fingers running gently through his friend's thick blond hair, and he started, guiltily, as Sinn spoke, without raising his head.

"He does this sometimes, the inconsiderate bastard."

"Does what?" Remus's voice was quiet – he felt he was intruding on a scene he had not right to witness.

"_This_…" Sinn waved his free hand elegantly, the gesture taking in Mars. "He falls asleep, not letting me move. It's usually after he's had a fight with someone." He sighed, absently twisting a piece of thick blond hair between two fingers. "I suppose he needs reassurance that at least _someone_ likes him. The fool," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Has he had an argument with someone, then?" Remus asked, still torn between staying and going. Sinn had yet to look up at him.

"No, and that's the worst of it. I'm playing nursemaid for no good reason." There was no venom in the statement – despite the cruel words – only a sleepy kind of contentment. "Still, at least it shuts him up for a little while. It's astonishing how much he can talk."

It occurred to Remus that, despite his cautious friendship with the two of them, he knew very little about Sinn and Mars. Shifting from foot to foot, he resisted the urge to bite his lip and tried not to feel like a schoolboy. "The students like him, though," he said eventually, brushing a bit of imaginary dirt off of his robes. "Surely you can't criticize his knack of being able to empathise with them."

"On the contrary, I believe they only like him because he's as immature as they are." Despite the comment, Remus noticed, Sinn's fingers didn't stop stroking Mars's head.

As he watched, the blond Sports teacher grumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and shifted, managing to wrap his arms around Sinn's waist, despite the obviously uncomfortable position. Letting out a sleepy sigh, he turned his head, burying his face in Sinn's lap.

"Er…" Sinn said, and Remus could have sworn he flushed the most astonishing colour. Then he realised it was probably the firelight that made Sinn's cheeks glow. Shaking his head in amusement, he smiled as Sinn stared up at him, brown eyes suddenly wide and a little unsure in his pale face.

"Why don't you sit down?" the Divinations teacher asked politely, jerking his head towards an armchair. "I need some company whilst I'm waiting for Sleeping Beauty here to wake up." His voice was dry, but Remus heard the genuine invitation. "What brings you here, anyway?" Sinn continued, not waiting for Remus to sit. "Must be something important to drag you away from your marking." His lips twisted in a quick smile, making his young face suddenly seem a lot friendlier.

"Christmas presents," Remus said bluntly, sinking gratefully into the armchair and trying to ignore Mars, whose socked feet were hanging over the arm of the sofa mere inches from his knee. A foot twitched occasionally.

"Oh?" Sinn raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"I need help finding some," Remus continued, leaning back in the chair. "It occurred to me that we're barely two weeks away from the end of term and I haven't got anything for my mother, or Mrs Fogarty-Davies."

"Annie?" Sinn's other eyebrow rose. "Why do you want to get one for Annie?"

"Well, she's been nice inviting me to dinner every Saturday with her family and you…" Remus trailed off and shrugged. "It gets me out of the house, so I thought I should buy her something, as a thank you. Which is why I came to you. Well," he amended, glancing at the blissfully oblivious Mars, "you two."

"Gift advice," Sinn said half in amusement, half in disbelief. "Well, I suppose we could help, it'd give me something to do, at least; and I know Mars hasn't got anything for his nephews yet, so he needs to go shopping. Oh, and we need to get costumes, as well."

"Costumes?" Remus repeated blankly.

"Yes." Sinn rolled his eyes, his knee bouncing until a barely-heard sound of discontent made him stop. "Professor Dumbledore's had one of his Ideas." The way he said "ideas" and the expression that accompanied it strove to convince Remus that when Dumbledore had an "Idea" it was normally something that was both embarrassing yet entertaining and not quite sane but brilliant. In short, it sounded like most plans Dumbledore came up with.

Remus could relate; he'd had Sirius dumped on him, after all.

"The Idea," Sinn continued, oblivious to the turn Remus' thoughts had taken, "consists of humiliating as many members of staff as possible at Christmas." He sighed, pursing his lips in annoyance. "Apparently we're all turning up to Christmas dinner in fancy dress. Because it will be…fun." He looked as though the last words were actually causing him physical pain, or at least making him feel vaguely sick. "Any student who stays over Christmas can wear fancy dress as well, if they wish, but for the staff, it's obligatory. Apparently there hasn't been enough festive cheer this year." He sniffed, disapprovingly, reminding Remus very strongly of McGonagall.

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad –" Remus began, but was cut off by Sinn, who was shaking his head.

"It will be," he predicted grimly, "because most of the students are staying over Christmas. The list was posted in the staff room yesterday, and as teachers, it is our solemn duty to instil the spirit of good will into our pupils." He stared gloomily at the fire for a moment. "To be honest, if I've got to suffer, I'm going to make damn sure my students suffer with me." Clearly slightly cheered by this thought, he glanced over at Remus. "Detentions are a marvellous thing," he added blithely.

"You're too cruel," a muffled, sleepy voice pronounced from the region of the Divinations teacher's lap. "It's no wonder the students hate you."

"So you're awake, are you?" Sinn said irritably, one finger poking dubiously at the top of Mars's head. "And how long have you been back in the land of the living, pray tell?"

"About three minutes." There was a small scuffle and Mars somehow managed to roll onto his back without falling off of the sofa or removing his head from its pillowed position. Two blue eyes blinked sleepily at Sinn, who pursed his lips together in annoyance. Remus watched the whole scene with mild amusement, until a hand stuck up in the air and waved in his direction.

"Hello Remus, sorry I didn't greet you earlier. Unfortunately my pillow was just so comfortable that I was sleeping the sleep of the innocent."

The 'pillow' gritted its teeth and quite clearly had to restrain itself from shoving the Sports teacher off the sofa.

Remus' lips twitched as he attempted to hide a grin. Sinn and Mars began bickering; their attention momentarily diverted from him, so he sank lower into the armchair and stared at the ceiling, thoughtfully. The sight of the two teachers so at ease in each other's company had sparked something within him. It wasn't jealousy, he thought, examining his feelings, but nor was it a feeling of camaraderie. Despite the fact that they obviously considered him a friend, they had known each other a lot longer, and they didn't share the same familiarity with him that they did with one another. As he paused, still thinking, he realised that what he felt, oddly enough, was isolation.

Sinn and Mars had one another. If nothing else could be said about the two of them, it was that they put together a united front, despite their quarrelling. If he, Remus, left the equation, he doubted it would upset them that much because they _had each other_. He was a friend, yes, but he wasn't a part of the intimate friendship they shared together. As pathetic as it sounded, seeing the two of them arguing made him wish he could do that with someone.

He sighed, and shoved that matter to the back of his mind, just as the argument came to a decisive conclusion when Sinn pushed Mars deliberately off of the sofa, resulting in a loud thump and a pained howl from the Sports teacher, who now had, he swore, a cracked tailbone.

Thirty seconds later, Professors Maple and McGonagall stormed upstairs to ask them to keep the noise down, as they were _trying_ to do some work.

AaAaAaAa

"What about a recorder?"

A loud and somewhat familiar voice penetrated the dusty aisles of 'Salome's Symphonies', making Sirius look up from where he had been absently perusing a bunch of old music sheets. Peering around the corner, he saw a tall, blond man with his back to him, waving a small wooden recorder in his left hand.

"I hardly think that's an ideal Christmas present, do you?" another familiar voice commented dryly and Professor Sinn appeared from around a corner, his expression holding a faint hint of annoyance. "I'm sure Remus's mother does not play the recorder, and if she _does_, she most likely already has one. So put it down, it's pointless." He took the recorder off the blond man – who Sirius had just identified as Professor Fogarty – and stood on tiptoe, peering over one of the stacks of shelves.

"Remus? Does your mother play the recorder?"

"No…" came the faint reply from somewhere in the depths of the shop, followed by a violent sneeze.

_Remus…_ Slinking back behind his own stack of shelves, Sirius stared blindly at the music sheets for a moment. This was the first time he'd been near the young teacher outside of school since that fateful night when he'd watched the other man from the courtyard. Ever since then, he'd half managed to convince himself that it had either been imaginary or that he had, at least, mistaken the look in Remus' eyes when he'd caught sight of him.

There was also no excuse for Sirius to be thinking of Remus now that James had called the bet off, but he had found, to his surprise and slight irritation, that his thoughts occasionally wandered in the wrong direction and ended up dwelling on the Professor.

"I say, what about – oh, hello Mr Black." Mars, who had evidently given up on the recorder, had rounded the stacks of shelving and nearly bumped into Sirius. "What are you doing here?" He blinked as Sinn emerged from the opposite aisle with Remus in tow.

"Looking for a piece to play for the competition." Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly, trying hard not to look at Remus. "I thought there might be something in here."

"I don't see Mr Pettigrew or Mr Potter," Sinn commented, peering around as though he expected Peter and James to burst out from behind a stack of old instruments. "Isn't it a Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Oh, yes," Sirius assured him hurriedly. "But they didn't want to come here, so I said I'd meet them in the Three Broomsticks later." He smiled, weakly, none of his normal composure left as he spotted Remus running a hand through his hair, out of the corner of his eye.

"I think I might have found something," the young teacher said suddenly, brushing past Sirius as though he was no more than one of the decrepit music stands. Pointing to a small, silver flute on one of the shelves, he leant forwards. "My mother plays the flute," he explained. "I'm sure she'd love an instrument like this, particularly as it's so old. One of her hobbies is fine-tuning magical instruments." He stretched out his hand to take it off of the shelf.

"Oh, hey!" Mars said sharply, his voice rising as though in panic. "Don't touch that!" Three confused pairs of eyes turned towards him and he coughed, looking embarrassed. Fixing his gaze on Remus, he said: "The object's _cursed_. It would be best if we let the shopkeeper deal with it, don't you think? None of us should touch it – least of all you. Not with your lack of… magical immunity."

Sirius blinked, certain that Mars had finally taken leave of the few senses he had retained after teaching Sports to Hogwarts students for five years. "It's not cursed," he began. "Look, there's not even a warning sign. In a shop like this, they'd put a small notice in front of it telling customers not to touch it, because it would give them terrible boils, or something." He frowned and leant forwards.

"It's cursed," Sinn snapped, agreeing with Mars, who was nodding, and already backing down the aisle. "Remus, you stay here. Mars and I will go and find the shopkeeper." Not waiting for a reply, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off, following the taller man towards the front of the shop.

An awkward silence descended, and Sirius saw Remus bite his lip.

"So…"

"So…" Sirius repeated, folding his arms and shooting the flute a suspicious look. "That thing's really cursed, is it?"

"Erm, yes." Remus coughed. "Cursed silver is, er, highly dangerous. That particular metal is extremely potent when charged with dark magic. Apparently it's incredibly receptive to spells – it's even used as a magnifier, sometimes…" He trailed off, absently fiddling with the sleeve of his robes. "So nobody should touch it," he concluded weakly. "Least of all me."

"What did Professor Fogarty mean by your 'lack of magical immunity'?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, I'm…not very good at repelling spells. Not a useful trait in a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I must confess."

"Ah."

"Yes. 'Ah'." Remus shrugged. "I'd better go and see where my esteemed colleagues have got to." He turned to go.

"No, wait!" Sirius's hand shot out, grabbing his arm, surprising both of them. "Er, look, Professor. Um." He coughed awkwardly, his normally quick mind and tongue going blank. "Why don't you come and have a Butterbeer with James, Peter and I in the Three Broomsticks? I'm sure the other Professors won't mind." There was a strange hint of desperation in his voice – although neither of them could have said why.

"I –" Remus opened his mouth, surprised; then shut it again. "No. I'm sorry, Sirius, but no." Refusing to meet the student's gaze, he brushed his hand off his arm and fled, leaving Sirius standing alone in a dusty shop, feeling far more confused than he had ten minutes ago.

AaAaAaAa

"One of these days," James commented to Peter, "Sirius is going to trip over his own ridiculously long hair and die." When this gloomy prediction failed to get a rise out of his friend, he frowned and nudged Peter. "Think he's ok?" He jerked his head at Sirius, who was staring thoughtfully at his Butterbeer.

"You want my honest opinion?"

"Yeah."

"No. I think something is wrong." Peter sat back and folded his arms. "And this something has been wrong since he got back from that music shop."

"Maybe he couldn't find a good piece to play," James suggested, taking a swig from his tankard. "Oy, Sirius, was there nothing in the shop? I thought you went in there to get something for that violin of yours. McGonagall wants a copy of all the music by tomorrow, so if you haven't got _something_ you're pretty buggered, mate." He waved his Butterbeer for emphasis.

"Hmm? What? Oh…" Sirius blinked then shrugged, finally looking up from his drink. "I couldn't find anything," he said distractedly. "But it's not the end of the world, I'll just pick something that I've already got."

"Then why are you so…" James searched for the right word, couldn't find one to describe his friend's mood and settled, instead, on making a circling motion with his hand.

"I'm not so…" Sirius mimicked James's movement. "I was just thinking."

"Oh sweet Merlin's beard. He was thinking! Quick! Someone inform the 'Daily Prophet'." This witticism earned James a swift kick under the table and he sniffed indignantly. "Ok, fine," he relented, "what were you thinking _about_."

Sirius shrugged again. "Not much. I saw a couple of teachers in the shop – quite odd seeing them outside of their normal habitat. A classroom suits them infinitely better." He lifted his tankard to his lips and drained it in one swift movement. James watched him, looking slightly impressed, and Peter just stared, eyes wide. As Sirius slammed the mug back down, two pairs of eyes followed it, before their gaze returned to his face.

"Something's upset you," Peter said finally. "Nobody drinks like that if they aren't upset. Even if the drink _is_ non-alcoholic." He folded his arms and James gained a new respect for him as he met Sirius's baleful glare straight on. "Now. What's the matter?"

"It's…" Sirius opened his mouth, shut it, and sighed. "It's Lupin," he eventually blurted, without thinking.

"Lupin?" James stared at him, brown eyes puzzled. "What's he got to do with anything?"

"Er…well…" Sirius stared at James for a long moment, his mind racing two steps ahead. If he told his friends how the teacher had been occupying his thoughts, it was likely he'd never hear the end of it. They'd jump to the wrong conclusion, he reasoned. If he told them that his sudden fascination with Remus had become worse, not better, since he'd decided that no more contact with him was a good idea, Peter or James would be bound to point out, if only in jest, that he, Sirius, was attracted to Lupin. Despite Sirius's assurances to himself that this was _not_ the case, he sincerely doubted he would be able to argue coherently against it to his friends.

"He just seems…ill a lot," he eventually managed. "I mean, it's like every month. And we're always just told that he's off, never what he's ill _from_. Surely the hospital wing should be able to get rid of whatever it is without much trouble?"

"He's right," James said, distracted – much to Sirius's relief – from asking exactly _why_ he'd been thinking about this so much.

"And I saw scars when…" Sirius's mouth snapped shut as he realised, too late, that neither James nor Peter were meant to know about his accidental nighttime excursion a couple of months ago.

"When…" James prompted, absently shoving his Butterbeer away and leaning forwards, arms folded on the table.

"When I…er…saw him getting changed in the…Quidditch changing rooms," Sirius said, a little too quickly. He winced as Peter raised one curious eyebrow, but was relieved that his friend decided not to comment. "The scars were all over his back and chest," he ploughed on, quickly. "And I'm willing to bet they were down his legs, as well." Some of them looked fairly new, whilst others looked like they'd almost healed over."

"But what kind of illness gives you scars?" Peter asked, dubiously. "Couldn't that be the result of something else?"

"Like what?" James demanded. "He's not the Care of Magical Creatures Professor – _that's_ the only teaching job you'd expect to get hurt in."

"Well, maybe he had a dangerous job before he came to teach us," Peter suggested, but Sirius shook his head.

"Doubt it," he said. "He's too young. Besides, some of those scars didn't look more than two weeks old – several still had scabs on." He frowned. "Besides, I doubt anyone would hire someone who's not that much older than us to do a dangerous job."

"That's another thing," James said suddenly. "If he's so well qualified and intelligent that he can teach us at _his_ age, then why hasn't some big magical company snapped him up and given him a high paying job? Why on earth is he teaching kids not that much younger than him, when he could do anything he wanted?" He frowned, glancing first at Peter, then at Sirius. "Doesn't make sense."

"No," Sirius agreed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I mean, Lupin's –"

"Lupin's what?" a sly, vicious voice interrupted, and all three of them looked up to discover Snape hovering nearby, his drink in one hand. Sirius immediately scowled, his eyes narrowing as his expression darkened dangerously. Peter blinked, unsure how Snape had come so close without any of them noticing, and James pursed his lips, looking faintly disgusted.

"Enjoy eavesdropping on other people's conversations, do you?" he asked, his tone acidic.

"When the topic is interesting, certainly." Snape didn't look at all remorseful as he casually leant back against the wall. "And what could be more interesting than our own dear, sweet Professor Lupin?" His black eyes glittered maliciously as Sirius let out a barely perceptible growl, his lips peeling back to bare his teeth in a clear warning.

"You don't even like Lupin," Peter pointed out, folding his arm. "So it's of no interest to you. Why don't you just push off?"

"On the contrary, Lupin's so…_intriguing_, wouldn't you agree, Sirius?"

Sirius didn't reply, he simply tensed further, his long fingers curling into white-knuckled fists.

"What, are you attracted to him or something, Snape?" James taunted, half shoving his chair back from the table so that if Sirius attempted to throttle the Slytherin, he'd be able to pull him off relatively quickly.

"Oh, _I'm_ not." Again, Snape's gaze turned towards Sirius. "Unlike some freaks I could mention, I don't go for scruffy, unintelligent, dull-witted _teachers_. Besides, something like that could cause a _lot_ of trouble if someone found out. Wouldn't you agree, Black?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Peter demanded, even as Sirius hissed angrily, his lips curling still further as he visibly restrained himself from hurling the nearest tankard at Snape's head.

Snape shrugged. "Nothing you'd understand, Pettigrew. After all, Potter hasn't explained it in idiot-speak to you, yet." He smiled, nastily. "I can't help it if you don't understand ordinary, everyday language." He laughed as Peter flushed, looking embarrassed. James, who had tried to remain reasonably calm, now began to think that Sirius had the right idea, and a little physical violence – which would preferably include a broken nose – would improve Snape's looks immensely.

"Be careful when you talk about Lupin," Snape continued, turning his attention back to Sirius. "You never know who might be listening. And you wouldn't want people to start thinking that something was up, now would you?" Smirking, he ignored James, who was now frowning in confusion, and stalked off towards a table in the corner where, Sirius noted with some disgust, Lucius Malfoy was waiting.

As soon as he was gone, James turned to Sirius.

"What was all that about?" he demanded.

Sirius shrugged, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, and the sudden flare of panic at the back of his mind.

"No idea," he lied.

AaAaAaAa

"TWO WEEKS!" Professor McGonagall's voice boomed through the large classroom. "TWO WEEKS, SAMANTHA PREWETT, AND YOU HAVE LOST YOUR MUSIC SHEETS!"

The small girl cowered further into the corner as her friends shrank back on either side of her, unwilling to draw attention to themselves as McGonagall continued to berate her. As Remus watched, the teacher actually stamped her foot, looking remarkably like an exasperated Victorian landlady, and shook her finger in the poor girl's face, still yelling at the top of her lungs.

Feeling rather glad that he was well out of range should McGonagall turn her attention elsewhere, he idly began sorting the pieces of paper on the desk into some semblance of order, writing down a list of the musicians, and which order they would be performing in. As he worked, his gaze kept flicking around the classroom, idly taking in the students that were milling around, clearly waiting for the rehearsal to start.

In one corner, several First Years were arguing over who would use the piano and which one of them would take the preferred piece of music. Sitting on some chairs to one side of them, a couple of students were avidly discussing the latest Quidditch match (Slytherin Vs Hufflepuff) and debating loudly whether if Lestrange had actually bothered to train his team, the Hufflepuffs would have stood a chance at all. Two girls were arguing over a music stand near Remus, and as he glanced past them, he caught sight of James, Peter – who had come along for moral support – and Sirius all huddled in the farthest corner of the room, their heads bent close together.

Frowning, Remus glanced back down at the papers, just as McGonagall stomped over, her expression still grim.

"Right," she snapped, "let's begin, shall we? Who's doing what?"

"Potter's singing first," Remus said mildly, "and Mr. Pettigrew has kindly offered to accompany him on the piano."

"What's he singing?"

"Well, I believe he _was_ going to give us a rendition of 'A Wizard and His Staff', but he was talked out of it by several of his housemates."

"Good." McGonagall scowled "One bar of that and I would have been forced to murder him – even if it had cost us the prize. That song brings on too many bad flashbacks. I believe Mr Potter had a hand in creating those memories, as well." She sniffed indignantly and Remus hid a grin by shuffling the paperwork, handing it to her with a polite smile and then looking away hurriedly.

Unfortunately, his gaze landed on Sirius, who, for the first time in about three weeks, was actually staring at him.

Remus blinked, surprised. The dark haired boy was looking at him thoughtfully, apparently oblivious to James and Peter, who appeared to be bickering good-naturedly over a scrap of paper. As Remus watched Sirius appeared to hesitate, biting his lip; then, suddenly, he smiled tentatively at the surprised teacher. Settling his violin case more securely in his lap, his fingers fluttered once in a wave – imperceptible unless one had been paying close attention.

Remus was.

Swallowing he felt his mouth go dry, and shut his eyes for a moment. _'What is going on? He ignores me for weeks on end, then, suddenly, he starts being friendly again._' He frowned, opening his eyes, only to discover Sirius had turned away, and was staring thoughtfully out of the window, still not deigning to notice Peter and James, who had given up arguing and were now making paper aeroplanes.

'_This is stupid._' Remus decided. '_He's just playing a game. But…_' he hesitated, staring blankly down at the desk. '_But…I want to be his friend. Nothing else,_' he reminded himself firmly, _'but he needs help. Dumbledore saw I could, perhaps, get him through a difficult period of his life. Maybe…maybe I can. Maybe we can be friends. I didn't like it when he wouldn't really talk to me_.'

Feeling slightly disturbed at this revelation, he looked up just in time to catch James launching into his opening piece – something that had tactfully been chosen by Peter, and contained nothing that could possibly upset McGonagall or bring on her flashbacks.

AaAaAaAa

'_He was looking at me…_' Sirius smiled at the thought, feeling a small fizz of pleasure despite his resolution not to think about Remus. '_He was looking at me, and when I played, he was paying attention to _only me_.'_ The possessive note in his own mind startled him somewhat, and he frowned, his contented state evaporating as he wrested his violin back into its case, strapping the lid down tightly.

The rehearsal was over, and apart from a small mishap involving the piano stall and an irritated Sixth Year, everything had gone well. Even McGonagall had seemed pleased as she dismissed them. She had given James several encouraging remarks as she and Lupin carefully went through each act, and by the end everyone had begun to feel positive that they could beat the other Houses, including – and, perhaps, especially – Slytherin.

Sirius shook his head, suppressing another smile as he ran his fingers idly over the leather of the violin case. McGonagall hadn't said _anything_ when he'd finished – she'd simply stared at him for a moment, then nodded approvingly. Remus hadn't said anything either, but Sirius hadn't needed his words of approval. The young teacher had watched, gaze riveted, as Sirius had played his piece, and Sirius was certain that had he had a romantically inclined mind, he would have said that the world had faded to just the two of them. Lupin's gaze had been…avid. Hungry. He shivered remembering it, and how everything else had seemed suddenly inconsequential, except for the fact that he was playing for Remus and Remus alone.

Shaking himself, he banished the thought to the back of his mind, furious that he had caught himself daydreaming again.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, and Sirius jumped, realising that he had lingered too long in the classroom. All the other students had vanished – even James and Peter. Dinner was no doubt waiting for him down in the Great Hall, so he picked up his violin case, turning to go.

Remus was standing in the doorway.

"Oh…hello." Sirius was pleased that his voice was so calm. Blacks didn't show weaknesses, and he was certain that had he not been taught this from birth, he'd have been a heap of nerves on the floor by now.

"Hello." Remus cleared his throat. "I, um. I wanted to tell you how good your playing was this evening." He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry if I startled you, I didn't mean to sneak up quite so quietly."

"That's ok." Sirius set the violin case back on the desk with a quick, precise movement, and perched next to it. "It was nice of you to come back just to say that." His tone of voice, he noted irritably, had somehow swung from calm and collected to just a little bit shy. He frowned as Remus blinked, clearly as surprised as he was at the sudden change in his attitude, and bit his lip.

"Look, Sirius," Remus hesitantly walked towards him and leant against the desk next to him. "I know things haven't exactly been…normal…between us. But I'd like…I'd like to be your friend. If that's possible." He sighed, staring thoughtfully at the floor. "I thought you might need someone to talk to if there was something you didn't want to confide in James and Peter about."

"Ah…thanks." Sirius linked his fingers together, glancing sideways at the young teacher. "That's really nice of you." Pulling some hair over one shoulder, he fiddled absently with it.

"Not at all."

An awkward silence fell, and Sirius was just about to break it, when he felt a hand on his arm. He swallowed, blinking dizzily, mouth suddenly dry, his pulse racing. '_Stop it,_' he commanded himself fiercely. '_Stop it, stop it, stop it._' Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, unconsciously licking his lips. Next to him, he heard Remus's breath hitch and felt his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on his arm.

"Sirius…" Remus's voice was low, his tone warning. He thought Sirius was behaving this way on purpose, to tempt him again. Sirius nearly laughed out loud, conscious that, for the first time in his life, none of his actions had been premeditated. He opened his eyes, gaze seeking that of the teacher's.

"Remus…" His own voice – God! How different it sounded. Lower, slightly husky. '_Pathetic,_' he railed at himself in his mind. '_You sound pathetic. Mother was right, I am an attention seeking little whore. This has got to stop. Now._' He shuddered, trying to focus his thoughts – concentrating on anything but the idea that he and Remus were alone in a classroom and that he could, if he wanted, manipulate the teacher into taking advantage of the situation. He whimpered low in his throat at this thought, not realising he had made a sound until he registered that Remus was staring at him, eyes wide, breathing slightly faster than normal.

"Stop it," Remus's voice was a harsh whisper that echoed around the empty classroom. "Stop doing this. It's not funny, Sirius. It's not right, either." It seemed as though he was reprimanding himself, as well. "I'm your teacher and you keep…" he trailed off and swallowed hard. Sirius's eyes traced the fascinating movement of his throat, momentarily distracted from the teacher's words.

"I'm not doing anything." Sirius raised his eyes again, meeting Remus's gaze squarely. "I'm not doing anything," he repeated as Remus exhaled sharply and moved suddenly to grip his shoulders.

"You are! And I refuse to be caught up in your silly seduction game, Sirius!" Remus's voice was becoming angry.

"Well you wouldn't know it was seduction if you weren't already thinking about me in _that_ way!" Sirius spat, stiffening defensively. "Who's the more foolish, _Professor_? There has to be some potential there for this 'seduction' to work in the first place." He was getting angry now, he could feel it, and the worst thing was, he wasn't sure why. He'd heard far worse accusations in his life.

"How dare you!" Remus's voice was cold. "Why would I think about you in that way?" He was lying, and both could tell. "I'm your teacher."

"So you keep saying." Sirius smiled nastily, aware even as he did so that he was behaving no better than a Slytherin. "But that didn't seem to stop you before. Tell me, Professor," he continued, shoving Remus back a couple of steps and sliding off the desk. "Does it make you hot, thinking about me?" His leer was more like a snarl as he stepped menacingly towards Remus, who unintentionally stepped back. "Do you _want_ me to seduce you? Do you _like_ the idea of having me across a desk? Fucking me until I scream?" He yanked off his school robes in one swift, angry movement, dropping them on the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Don't –" Remus began, panic flaring in his eyes, but Sirius had already wrenched off his tie as well, flinging it away. Striding across to Remus, he shoved him against the wall, using his greater height to pin him there. His some of hi dark hair had escaped from its customary tail, and was falling haphazardly around his face, giving him a dangerous, feral expression. He leant closer to Remus, lips parted in something that wasn't quite a snarl.

"_This_ is seduction, Professor Lupin," he hissed from between gritted teeth. "Because despite the fact that I can see you panicking, you couldn't say no to me. You want me." He leant closer still, until his nose was brushing Remus's.

"Stop it…" Remus's voice was breathless, but still angry. "Stop it, Sirius." He struggled, shoving Sirius hard so that he fell back a couple of steps, then pushed away from the wall, hands curled into fists. Striding forwards, he grabbed his student by the collar. "Enough," he snapped. "You've made your point."

Sirius's lips curled into a smile, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at the teacher. "Have I?" he asked. "I doubt it. You think this is all deliberate – contrived. Well it's not." He paused, suddenly, breath hitching as Remus's grip tightened, dragging him closer. "None of this was planned, Professor. It's not deliberate and I genuinely wanted to accept your offer of friendship. But I don't think we can be friends, you and I."

Leaning down, he crushed his lips to Remus', devouring his mouth. The kiss was not gentle, or sweet; it was a deliberate, hungry move and one that was born of anger and desperation. Remus froze for the briefest of seconds, before kissing back. Before he could properly respond, however, Sirius pushed him abruptly away.

"You see?" The dark haired boy's voice was still angry. "You see what you're doing to me?" He hissed in frustration. "When you're around, suddenly I'm not in control of myself. Why is that? I'm Sirius Black, I should be able to keep my head in any situation, but _you_," he spat the word with something that wasn't quite anger and wasn't quite despair, "you're making me go crazy, and I don't know what to think."

Behind the angry words, Remus detected a note of panic, and it was this more than anything that made his anger turn sharply into despair.

Releasing Sirius's collar, he staggered back, his eyes dropping to the floor. Ignoring the sting in his palm where Sirius's silver Hogwarts badge had burnt a circular mark, he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. For a moment the only sound in the room was Sirius's ragged breathing, then he lifted his head, gazing at his pupil, who was staring at him, still looking dishevelled.

"What a pair we make," he said softly, his words dropping heavily into the silence of the room. "We're both so scared of our own shadows that we can't even talk about this like adults." He laughed, hollowly, as Sirius continued to stare at him, grey eyes wide. "I can understand your position, Sirius," he continued reluctantly, "because I feel the same way, and believe me, I'd give everything I possess not to. But I do. So we're going to have to think of something."

Sirius looked at him, mistrust evident in his expression. Finally, he spoke.

"What do you have in mind?"

_To Be Continued…_

**Other Sinn/Mars fics: (Removegaps from URLs)**  
http:www. livejournal. com/users/cobaltviolet/13179.html#cutid1  
http:www. livejournal. com/users/cobaltviolet/12064.html#cutid1  
http:www. livejournal. com/users/cobaltviolet/10833.html#cutid1

**The Promised Christmas Fic: (Remove gaps from URL)  
**http:www. livejournal. com/users/cobaltviolet/11718.html#cutid1


	10. Chapter Ten

**CB:** Huge thanks to: real-fan05, a person, O.S. Acious, Crowley Black, empath89, MimiRose113, Black Crystall Draygon, Satan's Advocate, attaasa, clear venom, Shadow Cat17, EsScaper, MyOwnShukuun, haruechan, mistressKC, I Have Sirius Problems, Bittersweet Lover, Lover not a fighter, DawnAurilain, padprongs, LBx, RasAlhague, The Demonic Duo, The all mighty and powerfulM, LunasStar, SiriusMoonPuppy, RoschLupin-Black, Tainted Halo, VT Brown, Tanya J Potter, alana-chantelune, Maraduer-girl, embyr81788, Ncascanuez, Lhune, MY MInD, GotU, Queen Of The Paperclips, BohemiaLMM, OrA-ShiNi-gi, Lunaris, squiddie03, Zoologique, Celeb-Draug04, Elwen of Imaldris, MooseDeEvita, Moon in a jar, Zoutou, geminillama, Thin-K, penny, LythTaeraneth, Lilsi, Kawamura the Cat, DogStar716, Drake and Jang, Poicale, wilie, dedetomkiewicz, Devilita, Gray Wings, Padfootfanforever, Seraphina Kye, faine, Shuffle Queen, Fluffylemon, vickie, Demonsblade, Als123, Heather-Hezzer-and-Honaluki, Death Muncher, Goldensong, forestofgreenjello, twilekangel.  
**Big thanks must be given to:** Ncascanuez for being amazing, and DogStar716, for offerin support and excellent advice!

'_The tempter or the tempted; who sins most_?' 

**William Shakespeare, Measure For Measure **(Quote thanks to Lullaby Lily)

"I honestly think there's something wrong with that boy."

The voice that had floated out of the pantry was followed by an emphatic crunch – as though someone had bitten into an apple that had, quite clearly, been pilfered from the stores. Several tins rolled out of the small room, and a small packet of herbs followed – flying through the air to land with a quiet slap and skid next to Sinn, who simply rolled his eyes, nudging the packet to one side with his foot.

"Which boy is this? You think there's something wrong with at least one of your pupils nearly every day of the week. Not that you'd be able to judge – you'd hardly win the 'World's Sanest Wizard Award' yourself."

"Who else," the voice replied, as another packet hurtled across the room and Sinn had to duck as it hit the kitchen cabinet where his head had been an instant earlier, "but Sirius Black?" There was a scuffle, and Mars emerged from the pantry, carrying a small sack of flour, several eggs and a rather alarming number of different vegetables. He grinned as Sinn looked up at him from his cross-legged position on the floor, and settled down gracefully next to him. Juggling several items, he eventually managed to free a hand, and waved one of the vegetables under Sinn's nose.

"Carrot?"

"No," Sinn said dryly. "Thank you."

Mars shrugged and bit into the unfortunate vegetable with a rather alarming amount of vindictive relish. He paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on Sinn, who frowned, and glanced away.

"I mean, one minute the little bastard's causing as much havoc as he possibly can, the next minute he's as docile as a lamb," Mars said, returning to his original topic. "The only bloody teacher he behaves for is Remus – and even then I could swear he's probably up to something. He's never good unless it benefits him in some way."

"Honestly, don't you think you're being a little paranoid?" Sinn absently picked up one of the packets of herbs and stared at it, dubiously. "Incidentally, _why_ did you volunteer me to help make dinner this evening? I'm meant to be a guest."

"I'm never paranoid," Mars retorted, standing up and beginning to collect his ingredients together. "I just say things how I see them. And I volunteered you, because you're no guest, and Annie doesn't trust me to make anything without burning the house down. But for some reason, she trusts _you_." He snorted and began peeling a potato, occasionally glancing at Sinn, who rose as well.

The Divinations teacher scowled, and began measuring flour out with unnerving accuracy and speed. "Sirius always behaves in my lessons," he commented eventually.

"Yes, but that's because you're too fearsome to contradict."

"_Fearsome_? That's a word I've never heard associated with me before." Black eyebrows rose. "Don't tell me I'm really fearsome."

"Oh, you are," Mars replied cheerfully, absently eating a piece of potato. "Scared the hell out of me the first time I met you." He grinned and returned to his chopping, as Sinn frowned. "I mean, even now, most of the members of staff wouldn't exactly call you friendly. Except for Maple, of course; but she's nearly as bad as you. Never cross that woman. I learnt the hard way – she actually boxed my ears once, you know?"

Trying to ignore the mental image Mars had provided, Sinn rolled his eyes. "If I'm that frightening, why on earth do you talk to me?"

"Oh, because you're not _actually_ frightening." Mars waved a hand dismissively, and then promptly sliced his thumb on a kitchen knife. "_Fuck_!"

Sighing, Sinn picked up a dishcloth and ran it under the cold tap. Gently prying the knife from Mars' fingers, he held the cloth against the cut. "Fool. You should be more careful. Honestly, you're worse than Apollo when it comes to the kitchen." He continued scolding, absently noting that Mars was eating all the potato slices he'd just cut. Unwilling to remove his hand from where it was putting pressure on the wound, he resorted to glaring up at his friend, who was busy crunching his way through his fifth piece.

"Stop that! We're meant to be eating those for dinner!"

Mars grumbled, but complied, sulkily dropping the half eaten piece back on the chopping board. Sinn pursed his lips and changed the topic before the Sports teacher could continue to sulk.

"Did you know Remus has agreed to keep a closer eye on Sirius? Dumbledore asked him to. Apparently that boy needs 'stability' in his life – something I'm sure he's unaccustomed to. Anyway, Remus has said he's going to Hogsmeade with Sirius this weekend – something about making sure he doesn't scare any more old ladies. Personally, I think the Headmaster had a hand in _that_, too."

"Really?" Despite himself, Mars looked interested.

"Mm. I think it'll be nice for the boy to have some kind of good influence. It's fine us being nice to him, but we're not exactly able to relate to him – we're of a different generation."

"In the name of the gods, Sinn! You're making us sound ancient!"

"Well –" Sinn began, his lips twitching; but Annie, who stuck her head around the kitchen door, interrupted him.

"How's dinner coming along?" she asked, clearly expecting to see smoke pouring from the oven.

Sinn dropped Mars's hand as though it was suddenly red hot, and cleared his throat loudly. "I'm doing very well with my half, thank you," he reported, turning back to his measuring. "Mars, on the other hand, has been eating all the vegetables." He smirked down at the tabletop as an indignant grunt sounded to his left, then he carefully edged around the kitchen to try and find some eggs.

"I was not," Mars protested, as his sister glared at him. "I tried _one_ piece of potato to make sure it wasn't…mouldy."

"You'd have been able to see the mould!" Annie snapped, pushing the door open and stepping into the kitchen. "And the potatoes would have _smelt_. Nice try."

"Oh come on, Annie, one measly piece of potato…"

Sinn retrieved the egg and cracked it into a bowl. "Five, actually," he reported with carefully disguised amusement.

"Five? FIVE?" Annie's voice was getting louder. "My children have to EAT this evening! You'd better make sure they've got _something_ by the time I get back from picking them up! I swear you're going to be the death of me." She scowled, and for one moment looked remarkably like her brother who, although he was significantly taller, was managing to cower in a corner of the kitchen.

"Oh, Annie, don't be like that…"

"Don't be like WHAT, Pyrrhus Anthony Fogarty?"

There was a choking sound from Sinn, who was slowly turning red as he vainly attempted to hold in his laughter. He'd only ever heard Mars being called by his true name once before, and that had been by a rather elderly aunt, who had had a tendency to forget who he was anyway, and had insisted his name was actually Andrew. Smothering another chuckle, the Divinations teacher glared hard at the eggs then decided it wasn't worth breaking them the manual way. Tuning out Annie's loud tirade, he murmured a quiet charm under his breath, then watched as the eggs marched one by one up to the bowl and cracked themselves.

His attention was drawn back to the other situation at hand when Mars finally gave up trying to protest his innocence and resorted to throwing a dishcloth at Annie, telling her to get out of the kitchen. Normally, this would have only enraged her further, but she caught sigh of the clock, and realised she had to pick Apollo and Ganymede up from school.

She apparated out with one last threat, leaving the kitchen in relative peace once more.

"Well done," Mars huffed eventually when Sinn declined to comment on the spectacular row, and the silence in the kitchen had lengthened significantly. "You got me into trouble with Annie _and_ landed me with dinner duty for the rest of the week." He scowled and viciously stabbed a potato with a kitchen knife.

"Well you were the one who thought it was wise to argue with your sister." Sinn's voice was unforgiving and remorseless. "Anyway, I don't know why you let her bully you so much."

"Because she lets me live here free of charge?" Mars suggested, his natural good humour already starting to restore itself. "And if she didn't I'd have to live at Hogwarts in a pokey little room? Because unlike _some_ people, I couldn't claim Divinations rights and get a whole flat out of the school in the Divinations tower. Or…" he paused, tapping his bottom lip with the point of the knife, "…I'd just have to live with you."

"You'd do no such thing!" Sinn snapped, nearly cringing at the thought of Mars and the chaotic impact he'd have on his neat flat. "I'd make you sleep on the tower roof."

"So cold. You wound me, Sinn, you really do!" Mars tightened his ponytail – an automatic gesture that came from spending half of his life being blown about on a broomstick and thus having to retie his hair every five minutes. Setting the freshly peeled potatoes aside he sidled up behind his friend and peered over his shoulder at the eggs, which were still marching up to the bowl and committing suicide over the edge.

Sinn twitched, disliking the invasion of personal space. "What are you doing?" he snapped, trying to turn his head to see Mars.

"Watching the egg parade." The voice came right by Sinn's ear, and he nearly jumped at the closeness of it. Pursing his lips, he opened his mouth to retort sharply, when one of Mars's hands came into view, sliding slowly across the counter towards the line of eggs.

Sinn slapped the hand.

"Leave them alone, Mars. If you muck up my egg count, I'll kill you in the most creative way I can think of."

"Is that creative good or creative bad?"

"Good for me, bad for you," Sinn snarled. "I'd enjoy watching your untimely demise, but I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy experiencing it. Now leave them alone and get back to your vegetables, will you?"

"Hope I'm not interrupting this lovely domestic scene," an amused voice interjected. Both teachers turned to see Remus standing in the doorway, a large black cat in his arms.

"Remus, oh thank Merlin," Sinn stepped heavily on Mars's foot, making his friend wince and jump back. "I was afraid Mars would ruin the dinner with only me here to watch him." He smiled briefly. "What brings you here?"

Remus shifted the cat and nodded back towards the hall. "I came to bring Mrs Fogarty – Davies' Christmas present. It was quiet up at the school, and although my marking awaits, I thought a walk would do me good."

"Alex likes you," Mars murmured, nodding towards the cat, which was purring contentedly. "That's pretty unusual; he hates strangers."

Sinn pulled a sour face, reflecting on the first time he'd met the cat. The experience had been singularly unpleasant, involving a spitting Alex attached to his leg. He'd resorted to kicking his leg until the cat's claws had loosened, but unfortunately, he had jerked a little too hard. Alex had gone flying, but had fortunately landed on the sofa. Needless to say, the beast had despised him ever since.

"Oh." Remus blinked down at Alex, who was still purring contentedly.

"I heard you've been assigned to baby sitting Mr Black," Sinn commented, changing the subject as he began dicing the vegetables – a job Mars was supposed to be doing.

"Oh? Where did you hear that?" Remus, even to himself, sounded overly casual. He swallowed and tried again. "I, er, only learnt about it myself yesterday."

"Professor Maple heard it from Professor McGonagall," Mars said around a mouthful of potato, ducking as Sinn through the dishcloth at him for stealing the vegetables. "McGonagall heard it from Dumbledore himself. Oh, and Maple told me. And it therefore logically follows that I can't keep anything from Sinn, because if I did, and he found out about it, he'd murder me."

"Except you won't tell me what you're wearing to the Christmas dinner," the Divinations teacher commented – acid in his voice.

"I've told you, it's a surprise."

"Well, as long as you're not coming as the Whore of Babylon, I don't suppose I'll care much," Sinn retorted, throwing the chopped vegetables into a saucepan of boiling water. "Have you got a costume yet, Remus?"

Relived that the subject had been changed, Remus shook his head. "I was thinking I'd just throw something together the night before," he admitted. "Or maybe just buy a costume instead."

"Well don't take too long," Mars warned, "you've only got a week." He smiled, then snagged a piece of carrot off the chopping board and chucked it at Sinn's head. "Oy, Sinn, what about you? Have you got a costume?"

"That is absolutely none of your business," Sinn said, carefully sprinkling a small amount of salt into a pot of boiling water. "Remus, I did tell you that the students are coming in costume as well, didn't I?"

Remus nodded his confirmation, and smiled as Mars absent-mindedly tied an apron around his waist – one that, unfortunately, had pink ruffles. Sinn turned around and blinked, shock creeping into his eyes at the sight, before he pursed his lips and shoved past Mars, reaching for the spice rack. Remus watched, faintly amused, as Mars stared at his friend, shook his head despairingly, then looked down and realised what he was wearing. He went a rather alarming shade of red.

Over the noise of Mars choking in embarrassment, Sinn smiled pleasantly at Remus.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" he asked, already chopping more vegetables. "I won't listen to you if you say no," he added, and behind him Mars shook his head, still faintly pink with humiliation. Remus laughed and shook his head, but not in denial.

"If Mrs Fogarty-Davies wouldn't mind having one more."

"I'm sure she won't," Sinn said blandly, tossing a piece of carrot at Mars's head. "Besides, there's good food to be had here; I know, I cook it." The last was said with deliberate emphasis as he glared at Mars, who stared very hard at the ceiling, his lips twitching. "Anyway," Sinn continued, turning away from the Sports teacher with an exasperated look, "you need to build up your strength for…" he waved a hand, vaguely, uncomfortable with the topic. "Saturday."

"Saturday?" Remus frowned, suspicion beginning to dawn.

"What he means," Mars said bluntly, "is that we need to feed you up before you rip yourself to shreds in an attempt to go on a manic killing spree." Never one for subtlety he simply shrugged as Sinn shot him a furious look. "Look, I'm definitely not comfortable with it – no offence Remus – but there's no use beating about the bush, Sinn, is there?" He eyed Remus warily. "What's the matter? You look rather, er, pale."

"Probably your shocking lack of tact," Sinn snapped, furiously chopping vegetables.

"No, it's not that." Remus waved a hand impatiently, carefully placing Alex on the floor. "It's just…I said I'd look after Sirius on Saturday, didn't I?"

"Oh." Mars frowned. "Oh dear."

"I suggest," Sinn said, still chopping with a rather alarming amount of savagery, "you come up with an excellent excuse."

AaAaAaAa

"So," James said with the careful air of a man who is walking through Dangerous Territory.

"So," Sirius repeated, idly flipping through his Potions textbook before dropping it on the floor with a loud thud. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at James, who did his best to look as though he wasn't afraid of getting his throat ripped out.

"Are you going home for the Christmas holidays?" James's voice was overly casual as he sat down on his bed, absently tugging at his shoelaces in a vain attempt to get them undone. "I mean, Pete and I are staying, but we weren't sure if you had to go home for a…family thing." He tensed, expecting Sirius to become defensive, but was pleasantly surprised when his friend merely shrugged, yawning.

"No. To be honest Mother made it perfectly clear I wasn't expected home until the end of the summer term. Looks like I'm stuck here."

James and Peter exchanged faintly surprised, but relieved, glances. Sirius was taking this topic rather well. Deciding not to push his luck, James changed the subject with his usual lack of grace. Peter buried his head in his hands and mutter uncomplimentary things about James, the tact of elephants and several questions about the actual parentage of his friend – who remained oblivious throughout.

"Where were you yesterday at dinner? Pete and I waited but you never showed up." James wiggled his eyebrows. "Meeting some girl?"

_"What do you have in mind?"_

"That we try to be friends. I'm sorry, Sirius. I can't do this. Not here, not now. This job means everything to me."

Irritably shaking his head, as though to clear it of the echoes haunting his thoughts, Sirius blinked at James. "How did you reach that conclusion, pray tell?"

"Well, normally when a bloke's being secretive, it's because of some bird," James said, authority clear in his voice.

"Oh, what, you mean like you were about Lily?" Peter said sarcastically.

"Look, it's not a girl," Sirius said, leaping in just as James opened his mouth to retort angrily. "And before you ask, James, no it's not a prank, either. You know I'd tell you if I was going to hex the Slytherins or something."

James, who had been about to ask that question next, shut his mouth with a snap and folded his arms. "Then what is it, mate? No offence, but you're being pretty secretive about the whole thing." Peter, who despite his irritation agreed with James, nodded and settled back more comfortably on his own bed, his gaze fixed curiously on Sirius, who looked from one to the other, his expression slightly trapped.

"Well…" And here it came, Sirius tensed. The lie. "Professor Dumbledore has apparently been on about getting me a mentor. Something about me not being mature enough." He laughed, but it sounded slightly hollow and forced. "So he's asked Professor Lupin to keep an eye on me. Lupin, er, just wanted to have a chat about it last night, so I stayed behind after you blokes left. Apparently he's coming to Hogsmeade with us this weekend."

"You…" James said, his voice bordering on disbelief, "…have managed to get a _teacher_ monitoring our every move? I'm a good boy now! I shouldn't have to put up with this! I thought Dumbledore and I were past all of that mistrust thing!"

"Be fair," Peter said, far more reasonably than he felt, "he's only monitoring Sirius, not us."

"We can't have people being suspicious about us. Dumbledore's asked me to keep an eye on you, but I know he only meant as a teacher to a student." 

"Well, there's our excuse. We just tell everyone I'm a wicked hellion who needs watching."

A faint, grim laugh – despair striking a strange almost tragic note within it. "You are, Mr Black."

"It's time to go to Divinations." Sirius stood up abruptly, hauling his schoolbag over one shoulder and frowning at Peter and James, who still looked somewhat put out about the whole situation. "Look," he added, as the other two scrambled for their bags before they all made their way out of Gryffindor tower and off towards the Divinations classroom. "If you really feel that worried about a teacher tagging along, why don't you two push off for the day?"

"You sure?" James enquired dubiously as they clattered up a flight of stairs. "I for one would feel bad about just deserting you." Peter, unseen as he was lagging behind, nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," Sirius waved a hand airily, hitching his bag up. "Look, its not like Lupin's much of a problem, is it? He's hardly older than us. I'm sure I can charm my way into getting him to give a good report to Dumbledore, then he won't have to monitor me, and the teachers will think I'm a good boy. Everybody wins." His voice was casual, but James frowned; something in his friend's manner seemed slightly…off.

"Anyway," Sirius continued blithely, "I need you to get me some things, and I can hardly go shopping with a teacher in tow, can I?" Not waiting for a reply, he pushed open the door to the Divinations classroom.

"Ironic that it's Professor Lupin, eh?" Peter muttered to James, who nodded, still somewhat nonplussed. "I mean, what with that stupid bet, and him teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts…" he chuckled, sitting down at the table, next to Sirius, who was now busy rummaging in his bag. "Personally I think _we_ should be teaching _him_."

"Teaching who, what?" Sirius asked, having missed some of the conversation, but emerging triumphantly from the depths of his bag with a leaky quill and a scrap of parchment.

"Teaching Professor Lupin 'Defence Against Sirius'," Peter said cheerfully, and James flopped down in the seat next to him.

"Oh ha bloody ha," Sirius said, resorting to childish retorts and poking his tongue out. "Very funny, Pete. Look, I don't know why you two are making such a big fuss about this. Ickle Lupin can protect himself from me quite well, I assure you." Sirius missed the sharp look James shot him again, as a strange note of bitterness crept into his voice. Peter failed to notice it, but he felt the warning kick James directed at his shin, and said no more.

Sirius poked moodily at the crystal ball that was resting on their desk. The fog in the middle of it shifted slightly, but otherwise remained resolutely thick, so he sat back and glanced up just in time to catch Snape staring at him from the opposite end of the classroom.

"Slimy snake," he muttered darkly to James, who glanced in the direction he was looking and rolled his eyes.

"This year, you two really seem to be at each other's throats," he commented.

"Yeah, well _you_ were last year, until you became _responsible_, because Lily wouldn't go out with you otherwise." Sirius's words were said with casual, but unintentional, cruelty, and James frowned at him.

"Right, that's it. What's bothering you, Sirius? You're not normally this…sour. Is it the Lupin thing?"

Sirius stiffened. "What do you mean, 'the Lupin thing'?" he snapped, body tense.

"The teacher-monitoring thing. Is that what's bothering you?" James explained patiently, exchanging a curious look with Peter, who was trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

"Oh." Sirius relaxed somewhat. "No. Look, I'm fine. It's probably just…life that's getting to me." He smiled then sank instinctively lower into his chair as Professor Sinn emerged from his office and sat down at his desk, gaze taking in the room and lingering, just for a moment, on the table they sat at. The teacher's lips thinned, but he said nothing, instead nodding to the crystal balls placed at each desk.

"A warm up exercise first, I think. Will each of you please take it in turn to report to the other members of your table what is likely to happen over the course of the next week? I _hope_ all reports will agree. Of course," And here James could have sworn Sinn glared directly at Sirius and himself, "some people will have to put in more effort than others. Begin."

"I nominate Peter first," Sirius said, leaning back in his seat and absently glancing out of the window, watching several sixth years practice Quidditch.

"But we all know I'm terrible at this," Peter protested, poking dubiously at the crystal ball. "Why can't James go first?"

"Oh no…" James held up his hands in a useless gesture of self-defence. "Last time I predicted that Sirius would make a decision that would change his life, and nothing happened. _Then_ I predicted you would get eaten by one of Maple's special plants, and I was wrong about that, too. Sorry, Peter, but I'm just as bad as you are."

"Then why can't Sirius go first?"

"Because I nominated you!" Sirius said triumphantly. "Now hop to it, there's a good lad. Reveal what the stars hold for us today."

Peter sighed and stared dubiously into the crystal ball, his eyes half screwed up in concentration. He frowned and bit his lip, his fingers twisting together nervously. James leant forwards, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and curiosity. Sirius merely frowned, tapping one thoughtful finger against his lips as Peter thumped the crystal ball a couple of times with his hand, then began to talk.

"There's…Sirius. He's talking to someone." Peter squinted. "Can't see who. He looks angry…no, furious…he's shouting, waving his arms. Now he looks upset. I think he's alone. Yes – no! James is there." James and Sirius exchanged bemused looks. "You're both talking. There's…the music competition."

"What!" James and Sirius shouted, leaning forwards, their expressions eager.

"Can you see who's going to win?"

"Is it Slytherin?"

"Is it _us_?"

"Ssh!" Peter waved a hand impatiently. "No, now it's gone again. Your excitement probably clouded the…psychic waves, or something."

"Psychic waves," Sirius said, somewhat proudly. "You hear that, James? _Psychic waves_. I think Pete is finally showing his true talent. Now," he turned gleaming eyes back to Peter, who was looking faintly exasperated. "Tell us what you can see about the music competition, oh great seer."

"I'll try," Peter said dryly, as around their desk, the rest of the class got on with the exercise, and Sinn marked essays at the front of the classroom. Rubbing his eyes, Peter stared at the crystal ball again. James leant forwards, and Sirius tried desperately hard not to fidget as Peter frowned, clearly trying to make something out. Seconds ticked by, and James began holding his breath, sure that Peter was about to reveal that Gryffindor would win the music competition.

"I see…" Peter began, somewhat dubiously.

"Yes?" James let out his breath in one excited whisper.

"You, er, Jamie. You're um, getting hit by a quaffle."

"Are you sure?" Sirius looked thoughtful. "He gets hit with quaffles all the time – comes with the job of being a Chaser. Peter, that's not very helpful."

"I see a quaffle," Peter said again, more firmly this time. "I…see it COMING TOWARDS YOU RIGHT NOW!" His yell startled the class, most of whom jumped and turned to look at their table, just as, true to Peter's words, a quaffle smashed through the window, narrowly missing Sirius, who fell off his chair in surprise. It zipped past Peter's nose, and hit James squarely between the eyes with a loud and incredibly painful-sounding thud.

There was a long pause, as the rest of the class stared breathlessly at James who, for a heartbeat, remained utterly still. Then, slowly, he toppled sideways onto the floor, unconscious.

"Well I'll be damned." Sirius's voice interrupted the thick tension of the room, and he crawled over to where James lay, sprawled. Ignoring the shards of glass scattered around them, he poked his friend's shoulder, then shook his head, wonderingly. "Out cold." He raised his head, and grinned at Peter, who let out a muffled squeak, but otherwise remained frozen. "_And_ you saw this coming," Sirius added.

"It seems we'll make a seer of you yet, Mr Pettigrew," Sinn's dry voice cut in. "But I really think it's rather urgent that we get Mr Potter down to the hospital wing, don't you?"

AaAaAaAa

James Potter emerged from darkness to the sound of soft voices at the other end of the room, and a cold breeze brushing his cheek.

"I'm telling you, Madame Pomphrey, he'll be fine, honestly!"

"And I'm telling _you_, Mr Pettigrew, that he will _not_ be going anywhere for the next couple of days."

"But…Hogsmeade…"

"Will still be there after Christmas," Madame Pomphrey said firmly, and James cracked his eyelids open to peer at her face. She looked resolute. "I assure you he will be well in time for the end of term, and your precious music competition, but before that, I want to keep him in. He has concussion." She scowled. "I always knew Quidditch was a dangerous sport, but really, when you're not even _playing_ it and you can still be injured? Ridiculous."

She stomped back to her desk at the far end of the ward, and Peter came over to sit beside James, who opened his eyes completely.

"Hello, Pete."

"Hi." Peter sat down on the edge of the bed, shooting James an apologetic glance as the slight movement of the mattress set the dark haired boy's head pounding. "How much did you, er, hear of that?"

"Enough." James grimaced and shut his eyes again. "No Hogsmeade, eh?" He frowned, eyes still shut. "Where's Sirius?"

"No Hogsmeade," Peter confirmed. "And Sirius has gone to Quidditch practice. You've been out of it nearly all day, you know. He said he'd be back later to tell you how everything went, and he promised he'd try and bring some Butterbeer." He smiled weakly, and James, opening his eyes, sensed there was something more that the shorter boy wanted to say. He nodded slightly, ignoring the pain in his head.

"Ok. You…alright, Pete?"

"Mm." Peter frowned, looking down at his hands, which were fiddling nervously with the material of his robes. "James…there's, something you should know."

"Oh? What?" James shut his eyes again, blocking out the suspiciously bright light of the room.

"I…wasn't telling the truth, earlier. I, er, saw something else when I said that, um, Sirius was yelling at someone."

James cracked open one eye to peer up at Peter, who was still staring fixedly at his hands. When no more information seemed forthcoming, he frowned and managed to move his leg, nudging his friend with it. Peter jumped slightly, and seemed to come back to himself somewhat. Looking up, he refused to meet James's gaze, instead fixing his eyes on a point just beyond his head.

"Well?" James prompted.

"Sirius was shouting at Professor Lupin," Peter said quietly.

"So?" James looked puzzled. "Sirius gets into arguments with teachers quite a lot of the time. What's so special about this? Although," he added somewhat gleefully, "this definitely proves you're improving in the foresight department."

"Yes, well." Peter took a deep breath. "Shouting wasn't the only thing Sirius was doing."

AaAaAaAa

Mud squelched under Sirius's boots, and he grimaced, repressing the automatic shudder that came from being raised to loathe untidiness of any kind. Sniffing, he rubbed the back of his hand across his nose, and shouldered his broom. Ignoring the rest of his teammates he pulled his sodden robes tighter around his body and shivered. Stomping past several students who had been brave enough to venture out to watch the practice, he slid around the Slytherin stands and headed for the changing rooms.

"Well, well. A drowned rat." The voice was low and unpleasant, and Sirius stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Get lost," he snarled, not turning around. He shifted slightly, though; his boots sucking at the mud.

"You'd better be more polite to me." Snape's voice had a singsong quality to it – it quite clearly said '_I know something you don't'_. He snickered and stepped out of the shadow of the stands, perfectly dry, having been sheltered by the seats above his head.

"And why should I do that?" Sirius stared at him, coldly. Behind Snape, in the gloom, he could just make out another figure, but couldn't decide who it might be. It didn't matter. Audience or no, he was not going to be polite to Snape, particularly when he was smirking at him so maliciously. '_I,_' Sirius reminded himself, '_am a Black. And he's merely a pathetic lower class piece of...of filth!_'

"Oh, I don't know," Snape was saying casually. "Maybe because if you don't start being nicer to me, I'll reveal your disgusting little secret?"

"What _are_ you on about?" Sirius stared at him, his lips twisting into a nasty smile. "I think you're deranged, Snape, you clearly need help if you think you know anything about me." He laughed, grimly.

Instead of becoming angry, Snape merely raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you wouldn't mind me informing anyone of your sudden…_interest_ in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" He smirked as Sirius went pale.

"What…" Sirius's voice shook, then seemed to smooth out, becoming completely flat and without inflection. "What are you talking about?" He stared at Snape neutrally, clearly refusing to rise to the bait when the other boy smirked, his expression one of malicious satisfaction. "If you've nothing truthful to say, Snape, get out of my way." Sirius moved to walk past, but was stopped by Snape's hand, which shot out and grabbed his arm.

"I know what you are, Black. Gay. _Queer_. You and Lupin…"

"Get off of me." Sirius's voice was icy and he shook himself free from Snape's grasp, grey eyes hard. "You know nothing." Shoving past Snape, he walked quickly towards the changing rooms, refusing to turn around, even when he heard the other boy laugh behind him.

"I wonder what your family will say?" Snape's voice floated after him, mockingly, carrying on the clear evening air.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius shoved open the changing room door, then slammed it behind him, blocking out the sound of Snape's voice. Leaning against the door, he buried his head in his hands, trying to shut out the rest of the world. He remained utterly still, trying to think of nothing but his breathing and the steady dripping of the leaky tap, which no one could ever turn off completely. He knew the rest of the players would be arriving soon, wanting to shower and change before they all trudged off for dinner, and it was _vital_ that he looked calm. Nothing was meant to upset a Black, but more importantly, Sirius wanted no suspicions about his behaviour.

'_It's fine_,' he told himself. '_Snape's just trying to wind me up as usual. There's absolutely nothing going on anyway – at least, nothing important._' Even to him, the words sounded hollow. '_Anyway, he can't prove anything, and if he were to tell my family, I doubt they'd believe him. Yes,_' he drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and dropping his hands to his sides. '_There's nothing he can prove and he can't tell anyone._'

The sound of footsteps approaching the changing rooms made him move away from the door. Hurriedly stripping off his Quidditch robes, he arranged his expression into one of boredom as several of his teammates clattered into the room, chattering loudly. Sirius nodded to a couple of them as he quickly changed, stuffing his clothes under one arm before bolting from the room and out into the cold air.

AaAaAaAa

"You mean…" James said, eyes wide.

"Yes."

"Really…"

"Yes."

"And Lupin…"

"_Yes_." Peter rubbed his forehead in frustration, resisting the urge to hit James with his textbook, which he'd brought to the hospital wing in the hope of getting some work done. The only thing stopping him from beating James into coherent understanding was the fact that his friend still had concussion, so a brutal repartee would probably knock him senseless. Peter was still sorely tempted.

"But…" James seemed unable to complete a sentence, although his mouth continued to open and shut. It reminded Peter rather unpleasantly of a goldfish. "But…Sirius…_really_?"

"YES!" Peter snapped, dropping the textbook on the floor, lest he do serious damage to James – something the Gryffindor Quidditch team would not approve of.

"But Sirius is only eighteen!"

"Precisely, he's an adult. In fact, he's nearly nineteen; he'll be leaving school in two terms, and Lupin is barely a year older. It's not that shocking, James. When you think about it, anyway. Which you're clearly not doing."

"_But Lupin's our teacher_!" James all but howled, and Peter silently thanked his lucky stars that Madame Pomphrey had left earlier. "And Sirius isn't gay! He would have told us! He's my best friend, I know everything about him." He degenerated into broken sentences again, clutching his aching head and muttering to himself. Peter watched him for a while, then shrugged and picked up his textbook. If James couldn't manage coherency, there was absolutely no point in talking to him until he did, so instead Peter immersed himself in the art of Divinations.

"Maybe you were wrong?" James said eventually. "I mean, your skills aren't exactly known to be up to par. No offence," he added quickly, when Peter peered indignantly at him over the top of his book.

"James, I know what I saw. Believe it or don't, it's your choice. Sirius might have kept quiet about the whole thing because he _knew_ you'd react like this." He forestalled James's protests with an upheld hand. "I mean, you didn't exactly react well to his…family problems."

"Neither did you," James pointed out, determined that if he was to be blamed, Peter should at least share some of the guilt. "Anyway, this is completely different."

"Is it?" Peter demanded. "I don't think Sirius has made a conscious decision about this either, you know."

"I still say," James said weakly, sinking back against his pillows "you could be wrong." His eyes lit up hopefully. "In fact, you could be seeing back to that incident with the bet. Remember? Where you said you saw them kissing?" He smirked triumphantly. "So really there's nothing to worry about. The bet's over, and if anything had _really_ been going on, Sirius would have told us."

"James," Peter explained patiently, "Divination is about seeing into the _future_. I don't think I'd experience flashbacks via a crystal ball. Besides which, I very much doubt my flashbacks would consist of Sirius and Professor Lupin snogging, do you?"

"_But Sirius isn't gay_!" James wailed, sitting up again then clutching his head. "Ow. I feel like someone just poked a red hot spike through my eye socket."

"That's because you're not lying still." Peter snapped his textbook shut, and watched with a small flash of pleasure as James winced visibly at the sound. "And you're getting agitated. Really, it's nothing to worry about. Besides," he added comfortingly, "surely even Sirius isn't stupid enough to get involved with a teacher. It could get him kicked out of school for good."

"Peter, when you say it like that it makes _perfect sense_," James moaned. "It is _exactly_ what Sirius would do for the thrill of it. I hate you," he added without any real malice. "You've made me feel worse. Thanks a lot, Pete. From now on you are dead to me. _Dead_, do you hear? And when we get out of here I'm stealing all your textbooks because you won't need them, what with me ignoring you and not helping you with your subjects." He whimpered and curled up into a ball as Peter rolled his eyes. "In the meantime," he continued, "before I do that; maybe I can confront Sirius about this?"

"Yes, because your last confrontation with him over something potentially dangerous went _so_ well," Peter said sarcastically. "No, James Potter, you leave well enough alone, and this time I'll do the questioning, alright?"

"Fine, fine." James pulled the covers over his head. "I hope Sirius turns you into a frog."

"You're in seventh year, not a seven year old," Peter snapped. "For goodness' sake, act your age."

"Peter," James said mournfully, emerging from beneath the blankets. "You used to be such a nice boy. What happened to you, eh?"

Peter couldn't fight back the wicked smile that spread across his face. "I met you and Sirius," he said with utmost honesty.

"Ah." James nodded sagely, settling back against his pillow and reaching for a sugar quill. "That explains a lot."

AaAaAaAa

Remus watched Sirius pace his office, flicking a sickle from one hand to the other.

"So I won't actually be able to come this weekend," he explained quietly. "I'm afraid Hogsmeade will have to wait until another time." He smiled hesitantly as Sirius paused, staring at him with sharp grey eyes. "Still, it doesn't matter too much, does it?"

Sirius shrugged, resuming his pacing. "It's fine." His voce was carefully bland and Remus frowned, wondering why the student was acting so oddly. After he'd arranged to go to Hogsmeade with Sirius, it had Sinn and Mars to remind him that the full moon fell on the same day and that he'd be in no state to go traipsing around the village in the cold. It had been a matter of minutes to come up with an excuse, but he felt guilty – lying had never been one of his strengths and Sirius was acting as though he knew Remus wasn't telling the truth.

"I'm sorry my mother's ill," he said quietly, "but it can't be helped. There's always next time."

"Yeah." Sirius tossed the coin up again, and Remus suppressed a purely reflexive shudder as he watched the silver catch the light for a moment, before Sirius's long fingers closed around it, obscuring it from view.

"Are you…" Remus swallowed, desperately wanting to appear normal, and keep the conversations within the bounds of friendship. "Are you upset? I'm really sorry if that's the case, but…" he trailed off as Sirius waved a hand. Carefully, the dark haired boy placed the coin on the surface of the desk and leant against the table, arms folded. His black hair gleamed in the light of the candles, and his expression was hidden somewhat in shadow.

"I talked to Snape today." The admittance was low; barely audible, and Sirius remained immersed in shadow, although Remus saw his eyes gleaming, reflecting the flames of the candles in a strange, demonic way. He stared, almost afraid of this mysterious, _dangerous_ boy.

"Oh?"

"Yes. He…said something you might be interested in." Sirius's voice hadn't changed, but Remus noted how his hands suddenly gripped the edge of the desk tightly, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. "He said that he knew what I was. That I was gay. He also said," Sirius shifted, dark hair swinging forwards, obscuring his face still further as he stared hard at the ground. "He also said that he knew about us."

Remus's breath caught in his throat as he felt a cold trickle of panic begin to work its way down his spine. "How…" he croaked, and had to swallow before trying again. "How did he know? Not that there is anything…I…there isn't." The last words were almost a plea, and Sirius looked up quickly, the light catching his face and highlighting the surprise that was evident there.

"I don't know, Remus." For once, Sirius was sincere. "You said we should be friends, and I…" he frowned and rubbed his forehead, trying to order his thoughts. "I don't…know if I want that." The words were coming out slowly, almost reluctantly, and Remus stared at him, breath coming more rapidly as Sirius absently picked up the coin again, tossing it distractedly from hand to hand. "I just…I'm not gay. I can't be gay, and all this started out as…" Sirius shrugged, refusing to meet Remus's gaze. "Well," he said abruptly, making the teacher jump as he stood upright. "I just thought I'd tell you about Snape."

Remus nodded, ruthlessly squashing the part of him that wanted to know what Sirius might have said had he not interrupted himself. He was so distracted, that he almost missed Sirius pushing his hair out of his eyes a hesitant smile lighting his face.

"So," the student said. "You're missing Hogsmeade. Never mind." He moved past Remus towards the door, fingers almost-accidentally brushing Remus's. Turning, he smiled at the teacher, who shifted uncomfortably, aware of the lie, and the fact that Sirius might know he was lying. The clear grey gaze met his own, and he nearly flinched, but Sirius only tilted his head, still smiling. The sombre young man of moments ago had vanished to be replaced by a cheerful, somewhat brash boy, who smirked teasingly as Remus stared at him, momentarily nonplussed. Here, again, was a clear remnant of Sirius's childhood – the ability to cover up emotion with an arrogant demeanour.

"I'd best give you some money so you can get home then." Sirius tossed the coin to Remus, who caught it reflexively, without thinking. As his fingers closed around it, he hissed, dropping it abruptly as the silver burnt his hand. Hoping Sirius wouldn't notice anything amiss, he looked up immediately and smiled.

"Sorry, I'm a terrible catch."

Sirius stared at him, eyes wide. "Let me see your hand," he demanded abruptly, holding out his own to take Remus's. Remus flinched and clenched his hand tightly into a fist, shaking his head. Sirius dropped his own hand, looking thoughtful. "Your fingers were burnt," he said. "I saw." He frowned. "What caused that? You can't have been cooking – there's no need. And," he continued, as Remus shifted uneasily, "you've no need to be making potions, either."

Remus stared at him, mutely, unable to think of a single thing to say. Sirius was talking half to himself now.

"So there's no way you could have burnt your hand. Anyway, you weren't favouring it earlier." There was a long pause, during which Sirius stared hard at Remus, who in turn stared hard at the ground.

"Oh god…" Sirius's hoarse whisper made Remus's head jerk up. The student was pale, his eyes wide as he stared fixedly at Remus. As the teacher watched, he noticed Sirius was starting to shake as he took a hesitant step backwards. "No…you can't be…they wouldn't let one teach here." Grey eyes flared with sudden anger, and although Sirius wasn't making much sense, he didn't need to. Remus knew what he was talking about. "Those scars," Sirius snapped, still moving backwards. "I saw them! I didn't think anything of them at the time! And you're always ill. Quite regularly, in fact." Venom began to replace fear.

"Sirius…" Remus stepped forwards, reaching out pleadingly.

"_Stay away from me, werewolf!_" Sirius snarled, stumbling back a few more steps until he hit the door. Wrenching it open, he stared accusingly at Remus, who had frozen, pain flickering across his face. "You! You're a fucking werewolf, aren't you!" Sirius's voice was getting louder by the minute. "And to think I –" He made a disgusted noise and Remus winced.

"Sirius, _please_."

"No." Sirius pointed a shaking finger at Remus, his expression grim. "I don't want you coming near me, do you hear? You stay away from me, and you stay away from my friends. I don't ever want you near me again!" He spat the last sentence in disgust, his expression vicious. "You're a liar and a dark creature."

Not waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and fled down the corridor, leaving Remus standing shocked and trembling in his office.

_To Be Continued..._  
**CB:** Several of you mentioned you couldn't view the Mars/Sinn stories linked to last time. That's because I was stupid and put the URL in incorrectly. Here, for your reading pleasure, is a new URL:  
http/ www. livejournal. com/tools/memories.bml?user cobalt**(place underscore here)**violet (remove all gaps)


	11. Chapter Eleven

**CB:** I do apologise for making you all wait so long, it _wasn't_ fair of me, but perhaps I should have mentioned I've had hugely important examinations the last couple of months, and recently started a new job. So, apologies again, but it couldn't be helped. (Oh, and just one more thing – thoughts and flashbacks are in italics, but mucks up my formatting, even when I use the preview feature to check everything is as it should be, so you'll have to forgive me. I check, I recheck, and it's fine right up until it's uploaded.)

I would thank you all by name, but there's just too many of you! (Seriously!) Thanks next time!

_'It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought_

_Without accepting it.'_

**- Aristotle (384-322 BC)**

The figure on the tower top was nothing but a black huddled shape, outlined against the stars.

Sirius's lips were set in a grim line, his robes drawn tight around him against the biting cold, which he didn't even notice. His fingers were white where they were gripping his arms, which were wrapped around himself, although in comfort or anger, he couldn't tell. His eyes were fixed on the distant horizon, glittering with a strange, furious light.

He should have realised sooner. Remus Lupin: Professor; man; _monster_. Hell, he'd been around the teacher long enough. Sirius prided himself on his intelligence and observational skills, and the fact that he hadn't noticed anything amiss sooner was worrying. He'd been half unsure about his guess when he'd blurted it out, but the odd, fearful, _guilty_ look of the teacher had been all that was needed for Remus Lupin to become condemned in Sirius's eyes.

'_How_,' he thought furiously, '_can Dumbledore have allowed this? He's a menace – a danger to society!_' Sirius hissed through his teeth, furious and frightened, and more uncomfortable than he was willing to admit. '_He'd kill without a second thought. He lusts after human flesh._' The thought unnerved him: a dark, dangerous creature that lurked beneath the mask of a quiet young man. '_My teacher,_' he snarled mentally, and felt an unexpected shiver run up his spine, '_and he could have killed any of us, at any time_.'

The thought that he, Sirius Black, had been deceived was yet another sore spot – another black mark against the already dubious name of Lupin. At this point, Sirius was quite willing to believe the worst about the man, purely on the basis that he had lied and, quite frankly, pretended to be human, which was most definitely not the case.

The words 'filth', 'traitor' and '_animal_' kept reverberating around Sirius's head, echoing and cross echoing until he uttered a small groan and buried his face in his hands, gritting his teeth. He was getting a headache and the evening had not gone the way he'd planned. He could almost feel generations of Black eyes staring at him – condemning him for even _thinking_ of becoming involved with something so impure, so deceitful.

'_I hate him_,' Sirius decided, rubbing his eyes, trying to quell the furious burn of anger. '_He's a monster and I hate him. I'd be glad if I never saw him again_.' He swallowed, bitterness filling his mouth. He wanted to storm back to Remus's office – confront him again. He wanted to go to Dumbledore and demand that the teacher be fired. He wanted to hate the werewolf and – in spite of it all – found he couldn't. He wanted to shout; he wanted to scream; he wanted to hurt something…

He wanted to cry, and that realisation hurt most of all.

AaAaAaAa

James Potter had always considered himself an amiable sort of bloke.

At the age of five he'd decided that when he grew up, amiable was what he had wanted to be; and on the whole he had achieved this. He didn't really have any enemies – bar the Slytherins, of course, but nobody liked them – and he got on well with most people. He was, he often admitted, probably too sympathetic for his own good, and tended to get too involved in the heat of the moment, but it was genuinely agreed that his heart was in the right place.

At this moment in time, however, James Potter was not feeling amiable.

He was feeling angry, confused, and upset _because_ he was angry and confused. He was also feeling uncomfortable, and Peter's complete lack of interest over the whole matter was not improving his general feeling of well-being. He was also quite sure that the hospital wing was the last place he should be having this conversation, particularly at twelve o'clock at night, when he should have been asleep.

"It's not about him snogging blokes," he said, then a moment later shrugged. "Well, it is. But it's also…it's because it's _Professor Lupin_." He sighed, raking a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I mean, I try to be a good friend, and I've been thinking about this since you left earlier, Pete, and I want to understand, I really do, but I just feel…odd about the whole thing, you know?"

Peter chewed thoughtfully on a sugar quill, his face pale in the wand light. "Maybe it's that you feel you don't know him any more?" he suggested.

James shook his head. "It's not even that. It's like…I know I shouldn't care that he's interested in blokes and that he's my friend no matter what, and the logical part of my mind is telling me this is right, but there's something that's making me a little nervous about seeing him again now." James trailed off, raking his hands through his hair. "And the fact that you said he's going to get involved with a teacher makes me even worse. I'm worried for him, too."

Peter nodded sagely, the sugar quill finished, and handed James the packet of chocolate frogs. "There's Quidditch cards in them," he offered, and James opened one, looking curious.

"Baldric of Bulgaria again," he said sourly, and tossed the card onto the bedside table. Biting into the frog with alarming ferocity he scowled at the bed cover. "Pete…do you think we _should_ talk to Sirius about this?"

"What do you mean?" Peter had dropped his frog by accident, and was now hanging upside down off the bed, trying to find it. "You think we should let him talk to us about it first?" He sat up again, flushed and dishevelled, but triumphant – the frog clutched tightly in one hand, the chocolate already melting slightly. "Might be an idea." He wiped his sticky fingers absently on his pyjama top.

"Do you think Sirius even knows he's gay?" James asked, wincing at the chocolate streaks on Peter's clean pyjamas.

"Doubt it." Peter shrugged and finished his frog. "He's never struck me as the most tolerant type anyway, so something like that would be a bit of a shock, I think."

"Sirius is tolerant!" James snapped. "It's just his upbringing that's messed with him."

Peter shrugged again. "Yeah, I know, but James think about it – if he's been raised to think anything that's not pure blooded in concept is wrong, how do you think he's going to react to something like this?" He paused for a moment, but James – who had opened his mouth to retort furiously – had fallen silent and was staring at him thoughtfully. "You see? I doubt Sirius would want us forcing the issue. He'll probably have enough to cope with as it is. So no, in answer to your original question, I think we should let him talk to us."

"But how do I…"

"Act? React?" Peter began clearing away the debris of the impromptu midnight feast. "As normal. I think we should just treat him as normal." He slipped off the bed. "I'll go and see if he's back in the dormitory now. When did Madame Pomphrey say you could be released from here?"

"Probably tomorrow." James yawned. "But I've been banned from leaving the castle for a while. Apparently it's just in case I suddenly…collapse, or something."

"Collapse?" Peter sounded faintly disbelieving. "After all the Quidditch injuries you've had? This was only a bump on the head."

"A hard one," James reminded him.

"Even so!"

"Nothing we can do, mate. Still, I'm sure I can trust you and Sirius to retrieve all mischief making goods for me from Hogsmeade, eh?"

"We'll try our best," Peter said dryly, and slipped from the room, just before Madame Pomphrey appeared on her nightly round, to check that James was still well.

AaAaAaAa

"You look fucking terrible." Mars chewed happily on a piece of toast. Sinn, who was sitting next to him at the breakfast table, eyed the food with distaste and sought refuge in a cup of black tea.

"Thanks," Remus said weakly, sitting down next to the Divinations teacher. "I had a bit of a rough night."

"Oh?" Mars leant across and dished a heap of scrambled eggs onto Remus's plate. "Eat up and tell us about it." He smiled, expression mildly curious and turned his attention back to his food. Sinn, who paid more attention to people, watched Remus thoughtfully. Carefully setting his teacup to one side – well out of the reach of Mars's rather sharp elbows – he tapped Remus on the shoulder.

"What's the problem?"

"I…" Remus looked around to make sure no one else was listening. His mouth was dry and the dull, sick ache in his stomach that had started last night refused to go away. Sinn's concerned expression and Mars's vague curiosity only served to highlight what he'd soon be losing. "Someone…knows."

"Knows?" Mars finished his toast and started on several rashers of bacon. "Knows about what?"

Sinn, however, understood immediately what Remus meant, and his face turned white and grim. "Who? A student, or someone at Hogsmeade?"

"A student," Remus said softly, wrapping his fingers around a mug of tea to hide the shaking in his hands. He stared grimly down at the table; trying to breathe slowly and wishing that he'd never even thought of teaching; never agreed to come to Hogwarts and never, _ever_ met Sirius Black. He bit his lip as Mars made a surprised noise around a mouthful of food, and felt a quick brush of movement as Sinn elbowed his friend.

"Are you sure this student knows?" Sinn asked softly, and Mars paused long enough in his eating to shoot a poisonous glare at several students who seemed to be paying a little too much attention to the staff table.

"Quite sure," Remus said miserably. "He confronted me about it."

"Who was it?" Mars leant across, blue eyes sharp as he looked curiously at Remus.

"Erm." Remus flushed and shifted in his seat, his heart lurching. "Sirius Black."

There was a long pause as Sinn and Mars stared at Remus, their faces painted with identical expressions of mixed horror and sympathy. The other members of staff continued to eat their respective breakfasts with cheerful oblivion, and the noise from the students crowded in as Remus sighed and dropped his head into his hands. Nobody paid any attention to the suddenly small, morbid group of teachers at one end of the staff table.

Mars broke the uncomfortable pause by swearing fluently and at great length.

"I need help," Remus said miserably. "What should I do?"

" – little bastard I'll kill him myself if he's so much as breathed a word to anyone…"

"_Mars_! You are not helping!" Sinn snapped, slamming his mug down on the table and turned to Remus, his expression grim. "You need to speak to Dumbledore, I think. Perhaps he can talk to the erstwhile Mr Black – convince him not to speak of what he knows?" Sinn raised one, dark eyebrow. "I mean, if Black doesn't tell anyone, you can keep your job. Nobody will object if they don't know."

"And I'll wring his scrawny little pureblood neck if he's said anything," Mars promised. "I mean, no offence Remus, but when you first arrived I was really sceptical about teaching with a…well, you know." The Sports teacher glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "But now I'm not." He shrugged, completely unashamed. "So I'll murder the little sod if he's even hinted about your condition to anyone."

"Professor Fogarty," Sinn drawled, picking up his mug again, "I do believe you have a heart after all." He smiled at Remus, including him in the joke.

Mars stared at his friend, expression unusually serious. "Never said I didn't," he said frankly.

Sinn coughed and glanced away. "So, Remus." He nodded in Dumbledore's direction. "I suggest you speak to Albus as soon as possible." He drummed his fingers impatiently on the breakfast table. "Are you alright?"

"Yes…I'm…" Remus ran shaking fingers through his hair, his face pale. "I'm fine," he said, smiling weakly. "I just never expected anyone to catch on so soon." In truth he felt ill, but he was hardly going to tell Sinn and Mars that. The thought that Sirius could have blurted his secret out to the whole year already was enough to make him want to curl up and die, but the fact that between them they'd had…whatever they'd had, only made matters worse. What if Sirius had told everyone about nearly sleeping with a teacher? Remus could quite easily be arrested and he doubted he'd even get a trial, being what he was.

And underneath all those worries was the strange, niggling feeling that he was more upset by Sirius's reaction than by the fact that he might tell someone.

AaAaAaAa

"He didn't come back all night," Peter said worriedly as they sat down for breakfast.

James raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Maybe he got back late and you were asleep, then left early again."

"No, he didn't come back to the dorm," Peter insisted. "His bed hasn't even been slept in." He sighed and piled bacon onto his plate. When Peter was worried or upset, he tended to eat. James watched him for a moment, then helped himself to scrambled eggs and a couple of slices of toast. They both sat in silence for a few minutes, chewing thoughtfully until James broke the moment by clearing his throat.

"Here he comes, look."

Sirius slipped into the Great Hall looking dishevelled, tired and rather upset. Not bothering to do anything more than nod at one of the Quidditch players who called out a friendly greeting to him, he slid into his seat next to James. Pouring a glass of orange juice, he allowed his stiff posture to relax, slumping so that his head was on the table, dangerously close to a bit of dropped ketchup.

"Morning," James said, shoving his slipping glasses back up his nose. Frowning down at his plate, he avoided Peter's stern gaze and tried to keep his tone as normal as possible. "Peter said you didn't go back to the dorm last night."

"No." Sirius's voice was soft; drained. Neither Peter nor James could see his face.

"Poor Pete, did you have a lonely night? Me not there, Sear not there…" James paused and swallowed. "So, where were you then?"

"Thinking." Sirius rubbed his eyes but made no attempt to sit up. Yawning, he let his gaze move slowly across the surface of the table, encountering crumbs and pieces of dropped breakfast. He sighed and shut his eyes. "Sorry I didn't come and visit you. How's the head?"

"Not so bad." James attempted to sound cheerful. "I had a bit of a headache this morning when I woke up, but it's all fixed now." He coughed, nervously. "So…er…what were you thinking about, exactly? If you don't mind me asking, that is." Next to him, Peter tensed slightly, praying there wouldn't be a sudden outburst or that James had inadvertently asked the one question Sirius didn't want to hear.

"I was thinking…" Sirius opened his eyes again, but made no move to look at anyone. "I was thinking about dark creatures."

"Bit of an odd topic," Peter said lightly, washing his breakfast down with apple juice.

"Not really."

There was something very wrong with Sirius, James was beginning to realise. Even when he was in a bad mood, his friend was more likely to shout or start a fight than sit with a dull, listless expression on his face. This quiet despair did not seem in keeping with his normal character – something was clearly troubling him, and the vague undertone of bitter anger and pain that kept creeping into his voice despite his neutral expression was enough to warn James that something was Very, Very Wrong.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly, and Sirius, for the first time, met his gaze.

"James…what if…what if you thought you knew someone completely and it turned out you didn't? What if they revealed something terrible about themselves – something that changed you perception of them so utterly that you were furious with them and didn't know what to do about it?"

"Well…I don't know," James said dubiously. "I'm not sure what you mean. I think I'd have to know the terrible thing first, because doesn't it depend how bad it is?" He frowned. "This isn't about your family, is it?" He pursed his lips as Sirius shook his head, and watched as Peter leant forwards, his expression intent.

"Snape hasn't upset you, has he?"

"Ha!" Sirius's laugh was a hoarse bark – bitter, but still faintly amused. "As if that greasy git could upset me!"

James and Peter exchanged dubious glances about this, then James shrugged.

"Alright, what is it then?"

"Not here." Sirius glanced around, face pale. "Someone might overhear." He stood up and motioned for James and Peter to follow him from the Great Hall. Once outside, he looked around, spotted an empty classroom and hauled his two friends into it, shutting the door behind him. James and Peter watched him, both looking slightly alarmed by this strange, almost nervous side of Sirius.

"So," James said, as soon as the door was shut, "what's all this about?" He leant against a desk, arms folded.

"It's about…Professor Lupin." Sirius ignored the knowing look that passed between James and Peter, not even bothering to acknowledge their sudden camaraderie and conspiratorial attitude. "There are a few things you don't know." He cleared his throat, fingers knotting together nervously.

"Mate," James said gently, and Peter smiled – pleased to see that none of his earlier insecurity about how to act around Sirius was showing through. "We know."

"You do?" Sirius's eyes widened, then narrowed abruptly. "How?"

"Peter saw it in Divinations." Peter nodded his confirmation and James scratched his head sheepishly. "We've both been talking about it and decided we don't care."

"You may not care, but I do!" Sirius burst out, torn between desperation, fear and anger. "I mean how could the school allow this to happen? I'm surprised there wasn't uproar from the Governors." He stiffened, suddenly. "How come I wasn't _told_? Malfoy's got close links to the school…"

"Wait a minute!" James held up his hands, breaking through Sirius's furious tirade. "I don't think we're talking about the same thing here. What do you mean 'how could the school allow this to happen'?"

"How could they let Remus…Professor Lupin…Remus teach here!" Sirius drew a deep breath, looking from James's confused face to Peter's. "_He's a werewolf_!"

"What?" James paled and Peter let out a startled squeak. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure," Sirius said, slumping to the floor and resting his back against a desk leg. He looked completely miserable, suddenly, and Peter sat down next to him, reasoning that he might need some comforting. "I found out last night. Everything just sort of…clicked." He smiled bitterly. "I don't think I would have realised if he hadn't burnt his fingers catching a sickle. And then I remembered he was gone every month, and I've seen his scars…"

"How – ?" James began, intent on asking how exactly Sirius had seen Professor Lupin's scars, but Peter, who was shaking his head frantically, cut him off.

"He's a werewolf and a dark creature. He's dangerous." Sirius pursed his lips, looking ill. "And I trusted him."

"And you're quite sure about this?" Peter asked cautiously. "There's no mistake?"

"None." Sirius laughed, hollowly. "He…the _creature_ as good as told me so with his guilty expression." He looked up sharply at James, who was frowning, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Can you really believe that Dumbledore let it teach here?"

"I can." James's voice was weary. "It's like Dumbledore to give equal opportunities." He was shrewd enough to realise that Dumbledore had let Professor Lupin teach for the simple reason that he would not have found a job elsewhere. "And I think the reason he didn't tell anyone is because…well, could you imagine the uproar?" He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Merlin's balls, I didn't expect to be dealing with _this_ so early in the morning. A werewolf…"

"A werewolf," Sirius confirmed grimly.

"Ah," said a new voice from the doorway. "I think it's a good job I've found you."

Sirius, James and Peter all jumped.

Dumbledore smiled amiably.

"A word in my office?"

AaAaAaAa

"The…er…the problem with disposing of Boggarts is of course that you will always be more successful if there is at least two of you." Remus absently shifted the papers on his desk and glanced towards the clock, which was still showing the same time as five seconds ago. "Now I'm sure most have you will have seen or heard of one before now, and I believe your last teacher gave you instructions on how to get rid of them…"

Several students shifted, bored; but Remus paid no attention to them.

'_I wonder if Dumbledore's found him yet. I hope he hasn't told anyone…oh please god don't let him have told anyone…_'

He bit his lip, the sick feeling of dread welling up inside of him again, choking his words. The class waited as their teacher trailed off, and when no more of the lecture seemed forthcoming, one of them bravely put up her hand and asked whether he was feeling well. This seemed to startle him, and several students exchanged curious glanced as Remus hesitated, taking a deep breath.

"No, I'm, er, not feeling well. Thank you. Perhaps we should continue this lesson tomorrow." Remus smiled weakly. "Class dismissed. Please wait in here quietly until your next lesson." Swiftly he packed his briefcase and headed towards the staff room, leaving his class to manage itself for the last twenty minutes.

Professor McGonagall was enjoying a quiet cup of tea when he entered, and she looked up, her eyebrows raised. When she saw who it was, she smiled.

"I thought you had a lesson?"

"I did," Remus said, dropping his briefcase on the floor and sinking down onto the sofa. "But I'm…not feeling particularly well."

McGonagall offered him a mug of tea, her gaze sharp. "The Headmaster has informed me of your situation," she said softly. "And if he hadn't, Professor Fogarty's rather, er, loud threats earlier this morning were enough to set several alarm bells ringing; metaphorically speaking, of course." She smiled kindly as Remus let out a small whimper, burying his face in his hands. "Are you really that worried?" she asked, settling back again. "I'm sure Albus will ensure no one breathes a word."

"It's not just that, it's…" Remus bit his tongue, on the verge of confessing everything. He swallowed and started again. "It's the fact that I was meant to be looking after Sirius – Albus asked me to – and I feel…I feel as though in some way…I've failed him." As he spoke the words, Remus realised they were true. He _had_ failed Sirius. The boy needed someone to trust, and it might have been possible for him to find that in Remus – but not now.

"Sirius has a lot of issues that he needs to work through on his own," Professor McGonagall said gently. "I don't think even he realises quite how many. All Albus was asking was that you tried to be a…friend for him during this difficult time." She sipped her tea. "But it's not your fault that he found out."

'_It is,_' Remus wanted to tell her. '_It is precisely my fault that he found out. If Sirius hadn't spent so much time with me…if he hadn't began to pay attention to me in the first place…if I hadn't encouraged him…_' He twisted his fingers together nervously, trying to hide the shaking.

"Don't worry," McGonagall continued. "Everything will work out for the best." But her words had a hollow ring to them, and even Remus, upset as he was, could see that she wasn't as certain as she tried to appear. She nodded approvingly as he took a sip of his tea, nearly burning his tongue, and made another stab at reassuring him. "Anyway, Sirius is an intelligent boy. I'm sure he'll realise that you're nothing to be afraid of."

"You didn't see him," Remus whispered. "You didn't see how he reacted. I've never seen him so…_angry_." McGonagall frowned, as he looked straight at her for the first time. His eyes were haunted, his face pale, but, strangely, there was a burning resolve in his gaze as he sat up straighter. "But…you're right. He looked scared, as well. Maybe he just needs to learn that there's nothing to be scared of."

"See?" Professor McGonagall smiled and picked up her Transfigurations book. "That's the spirit. He'll come 'round, I'm sure of it."

AaAaAaAa

Dumbledore watched James and Peter leave his office then turned to Sirius, his expression amiable.

"So," he said cheerfully, "Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew have given me their assurances that not one word will be breathed about Professor Lupin's condition, but I notice you remained silent." He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with good-natured humour. "An astonishing feat, I must confess Mr Black. I've never seen you so quiet." He rummaged in his desk for a moment before producing a crumpled paper bag. "Humbug?"

"No. Thank you." Sirius shook his head, leaning back in his chair. Dumbledore eyed him thoughtfully for a moment before unwrapping a sweet and popping it into his mouth.

"You see, Sirius, Professor Lupin is a remarkable young man. He has struggled all his life to overcome public prejudice and do something he truly loves – teaching. I thought here at Hogwarts we could offer him that opportunity, and I must admit I very nearly had to fight Beauxbatons for him." Dumbledore placed the paper bag to one side. "Professor Lupin's condition, should it ever be revealed, will be the only cause for him being sacked. It will not matter that he is an extremely intelligent young man, and an excellent teacher; all that will matter to the hundreds of parents who will be writing angry letters is that once a month he transforms into a wolf – something he has no control over." The Headmaster leant back in his chair, the tips of his fingers pressed together. "That is why I have asked that you do not publicise his condition."

"I can understand that," Sirius said wearily, and Dumbledore noted with interest that he had slumped in his seat, "but I don't understand, Sir. I mean…_why_? He's…he's a dark creature; an animal…"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said gently, "Remus is no more an animal than you or I. What you are essentially saying is that we should be prejudiced towards him because of who – or in this case, _what_ – he is. Let us take a different approach, for a moment." He smiled, peering over the top of his glasses. "Let us use the example of school houses. Say that James was a Gryffindor, but you had been placed in…oh, I don't know, Slytherin. Would you hate James simply for being who he is? For being placed in Gryffindor – something _he_ had no control over?"

"Well…" Sirius fiddled awkwardly with the sleeve of his robes. "I see your point, Sir, but James wouldn't murder people simply because he's in Gryffindor. Re – Professor Lupin can, because he's a werewolf."

"You have always struck me," Dumbledore said with deceptive charm, "as an extremely intelligent young man, Sirius." Sirius frowned, wary of what Dumbledore was about to say next. "But I must confess you are being deliberately stubborn about the whole matter. Would you mind terribly – even if you do not wish to acknowledge Professor Lupin's presence ever again – not talking of his condition to other students?"

"What would you do," Sirius said slowly, deliberately, "if I said 'no'?"

"There is absolutely nothing I could do," Dumbledore said, rummaging for another humbug. "I mean, technically I could place a memory charm on you, but since Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew now know the whole situation, I'm sure they would re-enlighten you before long. Which would mean," he continued, unwrapping a retrieved sweet, "that I would have to place memory charms on all three of you. But I'm not going to because I believe, Sirius, that this is a decision you alone must make."

"I want to tell people," Sirius spat, his lips thinning into a furious line. "I want to warn students of what he really is." Dumbledore regarded him impassively, sucking his humbug. "But," he continued, and the hard edges of his mouth softened slightly, "I'm not going to."

"Oh?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You're not?"

"No." Sirius ran a hand through his hair, his voice suddenly low and tired. "I told James and Peter, because I wanted their opinions, and I've heard what they think – they don't care about it as much as I do." He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. "And as much as the whole situation disgusts me, and no matter how furious I am, I'm not…I'm not going to ruin someone's life."

For the first time in a long while, Dumbledore saw one of his brightest students let go of his arrogant, brilliant mask, and reveal himself properly. Sirius Black, the Headmaster had always reasoned, had more to him than met the eye. Not many staff agreed with this assessment, but Dumbledore was rather pleased that he had been proved right. Here, in his office, was a world-weary young man who needed understanding – something that people his own age probably couldn't give him.

"Why aren't you going to disclose Remus's secret?" he asked gently, offering the humbug bag again, and this time Sirius took a sweet, rolling it between long fingers.

"Because…because…" Sirius hesitated for a moment, then met Dumbledore's gaze squarely. "Because he was the first one who saw me as Sirius, and not as Sirius Black. Even James and Peter don't do that; not really."

"Mr Black." Dumbledore's voice was quietly amused. "Just when I think there's no hope for you and that you'll never show your hidden depths, you come out with something like this and amaze me." He smiled, and Sirius scowled in embarrassment. "After the number of detentions and warnings you have received this term, I half believed you were headed for serious trouble, but once again you have proved you have maturity."

"I only said I wouldn't tell because I feel like I owe him one," Sirius muttered. "It still doesn't mean I have to accept a werewolf teaching here."

"No," Dumbledore agreed. "But you are defying your background – indeed your very heritage – by remaining silent on the subject. Your family would most certainly condemn you for your discretion."

"I am not my family." Sirius's voice was cool.

"No, you're not. And that is very much in evidence here."

There was a pause; the only sounds in the office were the soft tick of the clock and an occasional fragment of sound that filtered up from the rest of the school. Sirius unwrapped his humbug and popped it into his mouth, crunching it without actually tasting anything. Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully, his fingers absently tapping a rhythm against his robe-clad knee.

"Sirius," he said eventually, and Sirius raised an eyebrow in question, unable to speak around a mouthful of humbug. "Is there anything else you would like to discuss with me?"

The tension in the room grew thicker, and Dumbledore, who had merely been conjecturing that there was something more severely wrong with Sirius, found that he gained no satisfaction in apparently having guessed correctly.

"There's nothing," Sirius said after a moment, and he stumbled over the words, tongue made thick by something he couldn't quite identify – terror or guilt, perhaps. Here was his opportunity to completely destroy Lupin – to make sure he never saw him again; to teach him a lesson about lying to a Black, but Sirius simply couldn't do it. All he had to do was reveal that Remus had been fooling around with him, and Dumbledore would have no choice but to set up an inquiry. Sirius's fingers curled into fists, and he avoided Dumbledore's keen gaze. He couldn't do it. He couldn't say those words and he didn't know why.

"Well." Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his forehead, looking tired. "In that case if you would be so good as to shut the door on your way out, Sirius." He smiled, but didn't push the matter of Sirius's secrecy. Instead, he watched as one of his brightest students stepped quickly outside, nearly tripping over his own robes in his haste to escape.

"Well," the Headmaster repeated as the door shut behind Sirius, and he stared thoughtfully at nothing in particular, and wondered.

AaAaAaAa

"I think," James said with dead certainty, "I am going to be sick."

"You're not," Sirius snapped, trying to tug his tie straight. "You'll be fine." His reassuring smile belied his rather irritated tone, and Peter sighed, handing James a sheaf of music papers.

"Here, hold onto these. You'll need them in a minute."

"Don't remind me; don't remind me," James moaned, and Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "I can't believe I ever agreed to this. What was I thinking? I actually _wanted_ to stand up in public and make a fool of myself." He whimpered, looking pale. Sirius, who had had the sensible notion of moving well away in case James _did_ throw up, tugged a lone shoe towards himself, then tossed it to Peter.

"James, you stand up in public and make a fool of yourself every day," he said. "Today just happens to be slightly different. Besides which, you won't make a fool of yourself. You've got talent. Even McGonagall said so. You'll be fine"

"Easy for you to say." James watched as Peter hastily tied the laces of his errant shoe. "You don't have to sing. All you've got to do is stand there and pluck a few strings, or whatever it is you do." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making the ends stand up even more than normal. "Do you think the panel of judges will care if I'm sick on them?" he enquired weakly, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"You throw up and I'll hex you. We'll lose to Slytherin!"

"I'm so glad," Peter commented blithely, "that I wasn't stupid enough to sign up for this music competition. I don't want to imagine what I would have been threatened with." He laughed as James whimpered.

"Shut up, Peter!" Sirius sang out from between gritted teeth, as they both watched James turn a faint shade of green. "You're only making things worse."

"I know," Peter whispered. "But it's going to be my only chance to pay James back for all those times he's terrified me." He and Sirius exchanged conspiratorial grins, just as their friend made a vague retching noise and lunged for Sirius's bed. Sirius leapt after him, hauling him back by the collar of his robes and threatening him with all the curses known to wizard kind if he so much as _looked_ at Sirius's bed again, let alone attempted to throw up on it.

"Can we just go?" James whined, already halfway to the door as he attempted to shake off Sirius – who believed he might make another attempt for the bed sheets. He breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped out of the dormitory, making their way towards the Great Hall.

"At least it's not the whole school competing," Sirius commented as they pushed their way out of the portrait hole. "We'd be there forever." Peter made a vague noise of agreement, but James simply paled further at the mention of the 'whole school'.

"I can't do this," he squeaked as they made their way down the stairs and into the Great Hall. It was crowded with students, all sitting where they wished instead of at their respective House tables. The staff table had been removed and replaced with a smaller one, at which sat three wizards and two witches. There was no need for a stage, but it was evident where the musicians were meant to perform, as music stands and a piano had been placed just in front of the judges.

"You can and _will_ do this," Sirius muttered, absently shoving some younger students out of the way. "There's no way you can back out now without looking like a complete coward, anyway." He stood on the balls of his feet and peered across the hall. "Ah, I think I can see my violin. Come on." Using a fistful of James's robes, he dragged his friend off to where several other Gryffindor musicians were sitting – all looking pale and nervous.

"I'll just sit here then, shall I?" Peter remarked dryly to the empty air.

AaAaAaAa

Remus took a deep breath and tried to keep from yawning. Next to him, Mars made no such effort and slumped in his seat, his expression a mixture of boredom and annoyance. To Mars's right, Sinn had his arms folded and was managing to look interested. Several other members of staff – including McGonagall, Maple, Flitwick and Dumbledore – appeared to be more genuinely involved in the proceedings. '_Perhaps_,' Remus rationalised, '_it's because they're Heads of Houses_.'

"Potter was good," Mars admitted grudgingly. "And so was that little Hufflepuff girl: the blonde one with the flute."

"Annabel?" Sinn enquired.

The Sports teacher shrugged. "Maybe? I don't know all their names – I only recognise kids who play Quidditch." He ignored Sinn's exasperated look.

"I liked the Slytherin choir," Remus admitted, earning himself a quick nudge from Mars.

"For shame, for shame. Slytherins!"

"Teachers shouldn't have favourites," Sinn remarked dryly. Mars shot him an indignant look, his expression wounded.

"I _don't_ have favourites. Maybe just because I sort of, kind of, really, really hope Slytherin doesn't win doesn't mean I'm singling out any other house for special cheering treatment. Although I'd rather like Ravenclaw to win…"

"See? Favouritism!"

Remus tuned out the good-natured noise of Mars and the sharp sarcasm of Sinn, and turned his attention to the students. Most of them weren't actually paying attention to the musicians – too intent on gossiping and laughing with one another. Even over the music – currently a piano concerto from a smiling Hufflepuff – there was a low hum of noise, although scattered applause broke out as the piece finished.

Letting his attention wander, Remus's gaze took in Severus Snape, who was sitting with his fellow Slytherins, and looking as miserable as ever. As both a teacher and an outsider himself, Remus really felt he should feel sorry for the boy, but there was something about Snape that he didn't like. It could be the fact that he strongly suspected Snape had known about (and here his heart clenched painfully) the situation between himself and Sirius, before the whole werewolf mess. It could also have been the fact that Snape watched him closely as he taught, and it felt as though he was just _waiting_ for Remus to slip up somehow.

He was so wrapped up in this dark contemplation, that he completely missed the opening bars of the next piece, until Mars's shoulder jogged him slightly, and a grudgingly murmured "he's good" dragged his awareness back to the present.

Sirius was standing before the judges. He looked neater than he normally did, Remus realised, possibly because his school robes were not in their normal dishevelled state. He bit his lip at the thought and transferred his gaze to his lap, listening to the slow, strange song of the violin. Apart from classes, he hadn't seen Sirius for the past two weeks; it seemed like outside of Defence Against the Dark Arts, the student simply didn't exist. Remus was not stupid; he was aware Sirius was avoiding him, and it had been what he'd expected, even after Dumbledore had come to assure him Sirius would tell no one about his true nature. But it still hurt, and Remus couldn't work out why.

Sirius Black had been trouble from the start, and now that he wasn't pressing his attentions on Remus, Remus felt that he should be relieved. Instead, every time Sirius deliberately avoided his eye, or sneered in his general direction, his stomach sank and he felt a small, hard lump in his throat.

'_It's just worry,_' he assured himself, absently noting that Sirius looked more tired than he had two weeks ago. '_I'm worried that he'll tell someone that I'm a werewolf. That's the only reason I get a little…agitated._' He sighed, silently cursing Sirius for being so unpredictable; so infuriating and so…so…Remus frowned, unable to think of a satisfactory way to describe the many characteristics of Sirius Black.

Giving up, he sighed and reluctantly returned his gaze to his student, studying him. Sirius's fingers were flying rapidly across the strings of the violin, his eyes were shut and he was frowning in concentration. But even as he swayed slightly, moving with the force of his playing, Remus couldn't help thinking that the music sounded a little…off. Slightly flat; as though Sirius wasn't putting as much effort into the performance as he could.

Apparently he wasn't the only teacher to think so, either. Sinn and Mars – who had never heard Sirius play before – were both looking pleasantly surprised, but Professor McGonagall was watching him with the cool air of a teacher who knows her pupil is not performing to the best of his ability.

There was something broken and forlorn about Sirius's music, and Remus suspected this was largely unintentional. It struck him, with faint irony, that it was only when Sirius was playing the violin that he was even remotely honest – to himself and to others. Remus pursed his lips, unwilling to examine this flash of insight in too much detail, and watched as Sirius finished his piece and nodded politely to the judges, his face expressionless.

'_That was strangely anti-climatic,_' the teacher thought. '_After so long practicing, and so many threats from Minerva, I'm surprised you didn't do better, Sirius._' He sighed as Mars leant over towards Sinn, muttering something in his ear, and unwillingly let his attention remain fixed on his student. '_What is wrong with you?_'

AaAaAaAa

Sirius knew he hadn't done well.

He had been feeling reasonably confident about playing in front of a large audience – attention had never bothered him – but then he had noticed that the teachers were watching and, more specifically, _he_ was there. Playing in front of Remus Lupin was something Sirius had not intended to do again. The creature did not deserve to hear music, and the fact that playing his violin was something personal somehow made Sirius feel worse. He honestly hadn't thought Lupin would be there – hadn't really bothered to consider the idea, honestly – and the fact that he _was_, and that he was _watching_ him had only made things worse.

And somehow, somehow, the music had become more personal than normal, until Sirius honestly felt that he couldn't play – couldn't place his emotions on display so publicly. (What those emotions were, even he couldn't say.) So he'd played badly. He'd refused to put any emotion into the piece. By shutting himself away, he reasoned, at least he wouldn't be giving Remus Lupin, Professor, werewolf and consummate liar, any chance to read his thoughts.

As he'd finished playing, Sirius hadn't looked once in the direction of the teacher's table. But as he nodded to the judges, he couldn't help but steal a glance to the side.

Remus was still watching him, an inscrutable expression on his face. His gaze burnt Sirius like a brand, and he shivered, torn between terror and something that he vaguely identified as some kind of curiosity. He scowled and turned away, unwilling to admit that he'd looked and shoved attempted to shove his way back to his seat next to James, nearly running down a small gaggle of Hufflepuffs in the process.

"Not good," were the first two words out of James's mouth, followed swiftly by: "I've seen you play a hundred times better than that. What were you _thinking_?"

Sirius shrugged, hauling his violin case onto his chair. "I wasn't thinking. I just…didn't feel up to my usual standard today." He laughed weakly, attempting to brush his failure off. "We all have the odd bad day. Even me."

"But did it have to be today?" James's voice was a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.

"You don't get to pick the day!" Sirius snapped, almost roughly pushing his violin into its case and strapping the lid closed. "Besides, Lupin put me off." It was a half truth.

"Eh, I can understand why," James admitted grudgingly. "I mean Peter and I were pretty freaked out about…you know…the whole thing. But you've had it worse. What with being closer to him and all…" He frowned, realising what he'd accidentally said, and immediately shot Sirius a contrite look. "Sorry. Didn't mean to point that out. I mean, I know it's obvious – it was obvious to anyone really – and….oh, hell. I'm just going to shut up." Looking thoroughly irritated with himself, he clamped his mouth shut.

"James," Sirius said wearily, finally sitting down. "We've been through this. We had a Deep And Meaningful Conversation in the common room not a week and a half ago that resulted in me biting your ear. We are _not_ going to speak of my spending time with Lupin again, alright? It's something I just want to forget." He shuddered theatrically. "Now, can we speak of something else, or do I have to gag you?"

"Speaking of something else is acceptable," James said hastily, fully aware that Sirius _would_ gag him if he had to. He paused, frantically searching for a topic. "So," he said eventually, his expression brightening, "how's Snape been recently?"

Sirius mock-growled.

"Right, right, another sore topic." James rolled his eyes and gave up. "Sorry. Shall I just talk about Lily for a while? I mean, you never pay attention when I do, so there's no chance of me upsetting you again. After all, I don't particularly want to have to explain another bite mark to Madame Pomphrey." He grinned and Sirius rolled his eyes, well aware of the ridiculous excuses James had come up with when his ear had been bitten in the brawl that had followed their discussion.

"Just talk about…clouds, or something," he said, exasperated.

"Clouds? Isn't that rather a poncy subject?" James saw the expression on Sirius face and groaned. "Right, right, not saying another word. Open mouth, insert foot. Shut up James Potter; I understand."

"Good." Sirius settled back in his chair to watch the remaining students. As he relaxed, his gaze almost accidentally wandered back towards the teachers, and he realised with a strange jolt that Remus was still watching him.

'_I don't like you,_' he thought grimly, pursing his lips and deliberately looking away. '_Dark creature. I don't like you. At all. I hate you; I hate everything you stand for; I hate the fact you lied to me…_' He frowned, one hand straying to his forehead, rubbing absently, as though to rid himself of a stray, unwelcome thought.

'_I hate the way I miss you._'

AaAaAaAa

"We lost," James said weakly, staring up at the ceiling of the Gryffindor common room, his expression one of almost grim denial as he lay flat on his back. "We lost. We can't have lost. It's not _possible_. We lost," he repeated again.

"To Hufflepuff, no less," Peter commented cheerfully, well out of range of books, bags and other assorted objects that might have been hurled at him. Sirius – who was perched on the end of one of the sofas – rolled his eyes and poked James's leg sharply, but not unkindly.

"It's not the end of the world," he said, although the slight note of disappointment in his voice betrayed his own optimism.

"Not the end of the world?" James couldn't even be bothered to raise his head. "It bloody is! We shall never hear the end of this! The Gryffindor name has, as a whole, been sullied! The Slytherins will be mocking us for centuries to come! 'Here,' they'll say, 'do you remember when those pathetic Gryffindors lost to the weediest House around?' And we'll all have to hang our heads in shame. _Shame_." The last statement was accentuated by the sharp thump of his fist against the back of the sofa.

"The Slytherins lost as well," Sirius reminded him.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter to them!"

"I'm not sure about his logic," Peter murmured to Sirius, who rolled his eyes in agreement.

"Losers…" James moaned not heeding the conversation being carried on around him. He clamped his hands over his eyes. "We're losers. I knew I should have sung 'A Wizard and His Staff'! The judges would have loved it."

"James, if you had done that, the rest of the contest would have been cancelled, or Gryffindor disqualified," Peter pointed out patiently. "And Professor McGonagall would have turned you into a stuffed mouse and chewed you when she was feeling angry."

"He has a point." Sirius slid off the end of the sofa and settled into a nearby armchair. Digging through his school bag, he pulled out several textbooks, and a letter he'd received that morning from his brother Regulus, who was studying at Durmstrang. "Now shush for a while, will you? Or if you must cry like a girl, at least do it in a quiet corner somewhere so that your manly reputation won't be completely destroyed. Not that you had much of one to begin with."

Grinning, he ignored James's rude retort – a few choice words and a vulgar hand gesture – and turned his attention to his letter.

'_Sirius, _

_Since Christmas is nearly here and you're (once again!) not coming home for the holidays, I've taken the liberty of ensuring your present will reach you on time. The only problem is that it's a little, well, big this year, so I've had to take some rather drastic measures._

_Christmas Eve, I suggest you go to the cave we found a couple of years ago just outside Hogsmeade. You do remember it, don't you? The one you and I discovered when Mother made us visit The Dragon. (You know which Aunt I'm referring to – don't play dumb with me, Sirius!) Anyway, I'm using a variation of the port key spell to send you your gift so I'm sure you can slip out of school for a couple of hours and oblige me! Besides, escaping Hogwarts shouldn't be a problem for you – it would be one of the least of your achievements, or so I've heard._

_Speaking of 'achievements'(and following that to its logical conclusion – getting into trouble), Mother mentioned something interesting in her last letter. She seemed even more hell bent than usual about you consorting with half bloods. (Really, Sirius, why do you?) Something she said made me pause – a mention of 'unnatural relationships'? I'm not certain what she means, but I'd watch out if I were you, she knows something. Maybe someone's reporting on your behaviour at school? Just a thought._

_Tread lightly._

_Your brother,_

_Regulus_'

Shuddering, Sirius crumpled the letter in his hands and stared sightlessly at the floor. As though from a great distance he could hear James expounding at length to Peter about how, if Anne Holmestock had just pulled her weight a little more on that flute, Gryffindor would surely have won. Tuning his friends out, Sirius stuffed the letter in his pocket and cupped his chin in his hands.

Someone was watching him. Someone was telling his parents everything about him. Hogwarts had always been his retreat from his family and suddenly now, even here, he didn't feel safe. He felt dirty, and watched, and more than a little paranoid.

Unbidden, the memory of Snape entered his mind. _He_ was always watching – waiting to catch Sirius out at something. Could it be him?

'_He knows,_' Sirius thought grimly. '_He's the only one who knows…knew…about Lupin and I. Perhaps that's what mother meant when she talked of 'unnatural relationships'.'_ He frowned and bit his lip, deep in thought. '_But how would he tell her? He barely knows her, or my family. No. It must be him. There's no one else._' He hissed quietly, earning a couple of startled looks from some First Years. '_The dirty little snake. I'll catch him at his own game. He won't ruin me._'

Sirius lifted his head as James – who had been trying to get his attention for some time – yelled at him. Plastering a grin over his furious expression, he stood, smoothing down his robes. Had he seen himself in a mirror, he would barely have recognised his own reflection. Pale, mouth tight and eyes blazing, his grin concealed nothing, and James shot him a curious, wary look as he sauntered over.

"Problem?"

"No." Sirius waved a hand. "It's nothing." He raised an eyebrow. "Finished complaining? Want a game of chess?"

As they set up the pieces, Sirius absently turned a pawn over in his hand for a moment, looking at it, his expression cold.

Something, he was beginning to realise, must be done about Snape. If not for his own sake, a small, unheeded voice muttered at the back of his mind, then at least for Lupin's. Refusing to even acknowledge the possibility he might actually be concerned for Remus's well-being, Sirius placed the pawn on the board.

Yes, something must be done.

**To Be Continued…**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**CB:** Many thanks for everyone's patience (_again_). I really am sorry you all had to wait so long, but a lot of things have been happening the past couple of months, so I haven't really had a chance to sit down and write this properly until now.

'_Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up._'

- **James Baldwin**

"My life is officially over," James announced as he flopped down dramatically beside Sirius on the Common Room sofa.

"Oh?" Sirius raised an enquiring eyebrow, and even Peter sat up, fighting off holiday lethargy to watch, amused, as James pressed a hand theatrically to his eyes. Sirius smirked and nudged him in the side. "Well, I hope it's going to end in a horribly gruesome and suitably public way. McGonagall would expect no less than a disruption from you – even in death." He smiled and patted James's arm consolingly. "Tell if you want, or keep us all in suspense until your dying day."

"It's Lily," James whimpered, abandoning his pose. "She's got it into her head that we're eating Christmas dinner together in the Great Hall."

"And so you shall," Sirius promised soothingly. "Turkey and Christmas pudding all 'round. And hurrah for that!" He frowned. "Is there a problem with Christmas dinner?" he demanded.

"No…and then again yes," James sighed.

Sirius puffed up indignantly. "If it's about the turkey I'll not stand by and let you insult it," he warned. "We both know Hogwarts' Christmas turkey is the finest in the country, nay, the world."

"Hear, hear," Peter agreed enthusiastically.

"It's not the turkey, it's Dumbledore's insane Christmas plans!"

"Something wrong with them?" Sirius enquired, relaxing now that the turkey wasn't being called into question.

"Something wrong? _Something wrong?_" James sat up, sounding indignant. "The old fool wants everyone in fancy dress, that's what's wrong!" He looked apoplectic as both Sirius and Peter stared at him blankly. "This is a disaster!" he insisted. "A catastrophe beyond our wildest imaginings! Even you, Sirius, could not have come up with an idea as cruel – even as a new means of tormenting Snape!"

"Now hang on a minute," Peter protested. "What's so wrong with dressing up? I rather fancy the idea myself. I had a nice Father Christmas outfit picked out."

"It'd suit you," Sirius said approvingly.

"Do neither of you _care_?" James howled, earning himself dirty looks from his fellow Gryffindors.

"Not really." Sirius waved a languid hand. "I was thinking of going as a pirate myself. Yo Ho Ho'ing, with the pilfering and the pillaging and whatnot." He beamed at James's irate expression.

"It's fine for you two," his best friend said darkly. "You don't have girlfriends."

"Oh, this is what it's about." Sirius exchanged a knowing look with Peter then clapped James cheerfully on the back. "So what's she suggested you go as? Sleeping Beauty and the Prince? Romeo and Juliet? Come on," he continued as James groaned and buried his face in his hands, "it can't be that bad. You can tell us – and it's not like you've actually agreed to wear anything yet, right?"

"I have," James moaned, "and it's worse than either of you can anticipate. She got me whilst my defences were down, I swear! If I'd been coherent I would have been able to say no. But I was distracted and I challenge either of you two to have been more intelligent in my situation."

"Your 'situation' being what, exactly?" Peter enquired delicately.

"I had my hand down her top."

There was a muffled explosion from Sirius, who was rapidly turning red in the face. His shoulders shaking with pent up laughter, he regarded James with eyes that were welling with tears of mirth. There was a moment of anticipation before he could contain himself no longer and ended up literally howling with laughter. Burying his face in a cushion, he tried to muffle the sound, but James smacked him hard on the head anyway.

"Oy!"

"Sorry, sorry," Sirius wheezed, emerging for a moment from his cushion to draw breath. "But…she…she…d-distracted you by…" He dissolved into a fit of laughter again as Peter tried to keep a straight face about the whole situation.

"So what did you agree to go as?" he asked, trying to distract James, who looked as though he would very much like to throttle Sirius for attracting the attention of half of the common room with his giggling.

James winced. "Lancelot."

"Ohhh priceless!" Sirius wiped his eyes, managing to stifle his amusement until only the occasional hiccup of mirth escaped him. "I c-can't wait to see you in armour." He bit his lip, which was trembling dangerously, and James glared at him. "You'll make a lovely couple," Sirius assured him, deliberately ignoring his friend's dark expression. "I don't see what you're so worried about. Everyone else will be dressed up in ridiculous costumes, I mean, why not you too? Surely you're not so old and adult that you don't enjoy dressing up occasionally?"

"Maybe," James conceded with as much grace as he could manage. "But…I mean…_Lancelot_?" he sighed and slumped back in his seat, the irritation fading from his face. "Romeo and Juliet would have been bad enough, but I think Guinevere and Lancelot is somehow worse."

"Not really," Peter assured him. "Think how many other people will probably be dressed up like that. _All_ the couples will probably have some kind of romantic theme going on."

"He's right," Sirius agreed. "The only one who'll look a real fool is Snape." His expression darkened momentarily, and it was James's turn to exchange a worried glance with Peter. "But," Sirius continued, visibly attempting to banish his mood, "he looks ridiculous all the time anyway. No one will laugh at you James, I promise. I'll even go on Parodying Potter Patrol so that no one can mock you, if you like."

"Don't," James sighed. "It will only waste your evening and make me look like a pompous prat."

"It would rather," Peter murmured. "But we'll keep an ear out anyway if you like, and thrash anyone who's being nasty. Well," he amended hastily as James looked at him, eyebrows raised, "Sirius can do the thrashing; I'll do the listening out."

"That's a sensible plan. I've always enjoyed a good bashing." Sirius smiled dreamily. "Of course now we're all older, we're technically meant to be setting an example to the younger students…which we'd be doing! 'Thou shalt always protect thy friends' is a sacred rule, which should never be broken. Except in the case of an extreme situation such as death. Or maybe if they owe you money…"

"Sirius!" James protested.

"What? It's the truth! Be honest, Potter, you once held me upside down off a broomstick until I gave you the money I owed you after I lost that bet. Remember?"

"True." James shook his head. "But I think we're all a little past the beating up and menacing stage, don't you? I mean, we're not twelve any more."

"Even if some of us got stuck with that mental age," Peter interjected dryly. Sirius shot him an indignant look then turned to resolutely ignoring him. James rolled his eyes.

"Anyway," he continued, deciding it would be wise not to point out that Sirius had just proved Peter's point, "maybe there's hope yet. I mean, Christmas is still a couple of days away, surely there's a chance that I can talk Lily out of this madness. After all, costumes are very expensive to hire, and I'm sure she wouldn't want me to spend all my hard earned money on a suit of armour. Right?" His hopeful expression fell somewhat as Peter regarded him dubiously. "No?"

"It's worth a shot," Sirius began, "but I wouldn't pin too much hope on it. If Lily says you're going as Lancelot, you'll go as Lancelot."

"You don't think I can stand up to her?" It was James's turn to look indignant.

"No," Sirius replied firmly, as Peter just shook his head sadly. "Sorry," he added belatedly as James groaned in despair.

"Changing the subject completely before James goes off to hang himself," Peter said, attempting to elbow Sirius off the sofa so that he could stretch his legs out. "Did anyone understand the Defence Against the Dark Arts homework? Because I'm not sure I can write five rolls of parchment on the feeding habits of three dark creatures of our own choice, and how to spot their species."

"It's fairly simple," James explained patiently. "Just pick…oh, I don't know, a vampire, a werewolf and a basilisk, say what they like to eat and then describe how you can pick them out in a crowd."

"For example," Sirius added, "take the basilisk. Species: Basilisk. Signs to look for when trying to spot one: ruddy great snake who turns you into stone. (See also Medusa). There, that was easy, wasn't it?"

"That will _not_ fill five rolls of parchment." Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe I should go and talk to Professor Lupin about it. He might at least be able to suggest some books I can look in."

"Yes, he can also help you with the werewolf characteristics." Sirius's voice was slightly too sweet, and Peter paled in spite of himself at the implications of the sentence.

"I'd forgotten he was a werewolf," he muttered. "I mean, not that it's a problem. Well, it is, but…I don't want it to be, and…oh…I need help with my homework but I'm not sure he's the person to ask then. Maybe I should just try on my own. I mean, no offence to Professor Lupin but I don't want to be eaten or anything, and it might be just as well if I didn't go….I don't want to upset him or something…" He bit his lip.

"Peter!" James exclaimed impatiently, "Don't be ridiculous. Professor Lupin's no different to you or me. So he has a little…furry problem…" (Sirius snorted) "…But it's nothing to be afraid of. Think of it as, oh I don't know, a non-infectious disease or something. I mean, ninety nine per cent of the time he's perfectly normal, right? And it's not like you've seen him running around the grounds howling at the moon."

"Yes, but…" Peter wavered, clearly torn between wanting to believe James and going for help with his homework, and his natural fearful instinct. "What if he gets more bad-tempered or something before the full moon? He might shout at me."

"Peter, Peter, Peter," James said soothingly. "Professor Sinn shouts at you all the time and you don't care. Besides, I'm sure the full moon's not for ages yet."

"Christmas Eve. Three days time," Sirius said promptly, and without thinking. He blinked as James turned incredulous eyes upon him.

"You _know_ when the next full moon is?"

"Er, yes." Sirius cleared his throat. "I mean, I just happened to be looking at a lunar chart the other day in, er, Astronomy, and I noted when the next full moon was. Nothing unusual in doing that, is there? I mean, shouldn't a man know when his full moon is?"

James opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, then shut it quickly. "No, not at all. Nothing odd in that at all." He turned hastily back to Peter. "You see? Ages and ages away. Three whole days is a long time. I'm sure if you go and see him now he'll be perfectly happy to help you." He patted Peter on the back. "Anyway, I'm sure he'd love to help you – it's what teacher are paid to do, isn't it? And if you're really uncomfortable, we'll come with you."

"Will we?" Sirius sat up straighter, looking vaguely put out.

"Yes," James replied firmly, "_we will_."

AaAaAaAa

"I think it's all a load of rubbish, myself," Mars said, legs swinging as he sat perched on a desk. "I mean, who in their right minds would want to go near that thing?"

"You'd be surprised," Sinn said, absently shuffling his papers. He cocked an eyebrow at Remus. "Of course it's you that should be the most worried, I think. If one of the children manages to get close enough to…"

"Don't." Remus cut him off with a shudder. He laid his quill to one side and leant back in his chair. The rain pattering against the windows made strange shadows across his desk, and apart from the other two teachers, the classroom was empty of life. The light was already dimming as the day drew to a close, and the twilight made Remus's eyes ache, as though he had been trying to read for too long.

"Still, it's become the new sport of the holidays," Mars said, absently fiddling with a piece of his hair. "They're all daring one another to see who can get the closest to the trunk without getting killed."

"I'm starting to think planting a Whomping Willow was a bad idea," Sinn muttered. "Couldn't Dumbledore have gone for something a little less…noticeable? And how exactly has he justified planting a dangerous tree on school grounds to the Board of Governors? Surely it might have been simpler for you to have just walked into Hogsmeade once a month, Remus?" He shot an enquiring look at the young teacher.

"No." Remus rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Eventually someone in the village would have noticed that I walked to the shack every month and that soon after there was horrible noises. And I very much doubt they would have thought I was a poltergeist."

"He has a point," Mars agreed. Sinn glared at him.

"Stop playing with your hair," he snapped, leaning forwards and plucking the strands from Mars fingers. Tucking them safely behind the Sports teacher's ear, he sat back, radiating disapproval. "It'll only make it more tangled than it already is."

"Yes mother." Mars grinned impudently and Remus fought to hide as smile as Sinn sniffed indignantly. "Anyway," Mars continued, turning his attention back to Remus, "I'm sure this new danger sport will have died down by the end of the holidays. I think trying to kill themselves just gives the brats something to do." He shrugged as Sinn rolled his eyes. "And I've been handing out detentions left right and centre to anyone I see so much as looking at that tree the wrong way."

"Thank you," Remus smiled, "to both of you."

"Oh it's nothing," Mars assured him breezily. "Anyway, it was Sinn who noticed what was happening first, and he put me on the case because I'm always out in the grounds anyway, so I can keep an eye on things – make sure no one discovers the knot." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not just you I'm thinking about, I mean, what would happen if a kid took it into his or her head to follow the passage on the night of the full moon?"

"Don't," Remus said softly. "It's something I absolutely dread to think of."

"We know." Sinn patted his arm soothingly, shooting Mars an angry look. "But it's not likely to happen, is it? We all know the tree will bludgeon anyone who gets too close to it – and I think after a couple of smacks the students will soon pick up on the idea that it's a bit _too_ dangerous. After all, they're not stupid. Well," he amended, "not entirely." Absently he picked up several of his papers and shuffled them again.

"And in the meantime I'll do my best to keep them –" A knock on the classroom door cut Mars off abruptly, and he leapt off the desk, tensing slightly.

"Professor?" Peter stuck his head around the door, looking slightly nervous. "Um, sorry to interrupt but, um, Professor McGonagall said you might be here and…well…I need some help…" He trailed off, looking helplessly from Remus to Sinn to Mars and back again. "I can come back later if it's a bit of a bother?" he added.

"No, it's alright Peter. You haven't interrupted." Remus smiled and indicated one of the desks. "Grab a chair and I'll help you as best I can."

"Thanks." Peter brightened considerably. Pushing the door open completely, he all but scuttled into the room, avoiding Mars's amused look and dumping his homework on Remus's desk. "It's mainly just going about answering the question you set us…"

"Oh, what's…" Remus looked up from Peter's scraps of parchment and flinched. James Potter had sauntered into the room and was currently settling himself behind one of the front row desks. But standing in the doorway was Sirius, his expression grim and tinged with a faint bitterness, as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. There was a long, awkward pause as Sirius met Remus's gaze, before his mouth tightened and he half turned, stomping across the classroom to flop down in the seat next to James's.

"I hope you don't mind…" Peter said hesitantly, "but they said they wanted to come along."

"I…oh, no. That's not a problem," Remus assured him, tearing his gaze away from Sirius, who was glaring at the surface of his desk. Next to him, James was folding a piece of paper into a miniature broomstick. Biting his lip, Remus tried to focus his attention on Peter, who was watching him worriedly, clutching a page of his essay in one hand, the and a quill in the other, his fingers stained with ink.

"Now, what was the problem again?" Remus forced Sirius to the back of his mind, ignoring him as best he could as he listened to Peter and gently explained that yes, Peter had got the right idea about his essay, no, he didn't need to do more than three creatures and yes, it probably was a good idea to refer to other scholars if he wanted a better mark. As he talked, he couldn't help but feel grateful that Sinn was sitting close by, watching James and Sirius like a hawk and that Mars, perched next to him once more, looked ready to pounce if Sirius so much as blinked in the wrong way.

Maybe, he reasoned, he _did_ have friends here, after all.

"I think," Peter said at length, "I understand a little better now." He sighed in relief and shuffled his parchment scraps into something resembling a pile. "And any creature is ok to write about, is it?" He blinked nervously, wondering how to ask Lupin if writing about werewolves was alright when he wasn't even meant to know one was currently residing in the school. Deciding it was probably not worth the risk, he stood up hastily, nearly sending his chair flying.

"Of course." Remus smiled reassuringly at him. "I wanted to give you all scope for your studies. You are NEWT students, after all."

"So, writing about, oh, I don't know, _werewolves_ is alright with you, is it Professor?" Sirius's voice filled the silence of the classroom and Remus stiffened. Glancing nervously first at Peter – who was now frantically shuffling his parchment, eyes fixed on the desk – then at James – who was still engaged with his paper broom – the teacher swallowed, and managed to fix a polite smile on his face.

"Yes, of course that's fine, why shouldn't it be?"

"Well." Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus noticed distractedly that Potter had looked up from his model broom and was watching the exchange with the horrified fascination of a man watching an unstoppable train wreck.

"Well," Sirius repeated, standing up, "I would have thought _you_ of all people would have known just why it wasn't 'fine', Professor."

There was an infuriated hiss from Mars, who had slid off of his desk and was now standing, stiff and precise with rage. "Just what are you insinuating, Mr Black?" He folded his arms, staring hard at Sirius, who raised his chin defiantly, still smirking.

"Nothing," he said at length, and Mars's eyes narrowed. "Nothing at all." He turned, jerking his head towards the door. "Come on James; Peter; let's go."

Turning, he stomped from the room, Peter scurrying behind him. James got to his feet too, but paused. Remus watched him nervously, half expecting questions about the exchange. James did indeed look very much as though he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shut it again. And just before he followed Sirius out, Remus could have sworn he saw something that looked very much like pity cross his student's face.

AaAaAaAa

The dormitory was utterly still that night, save for Peter's snoring.

Sirius lay, still fully clothed, staring up at the canopy above his bed, listening to his friend's snores and the quiet moan of the wind outside. Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest – more for comfort than warmth – and rolled over onto his side, bringing his knees up so that he was curled in a foetal position. Ignoring the dull ache in the pit of his stomach that was reminding him he'd skipped dinner, he stared wide-eyed into the dark.

His behaviour this afternoon had been bad, even he could admit that. It wasn't that Lupin didn't deserve it – he did – but he, Sirius, should not have become so…so _angry_. He wasn't meant to get infuriated at the sheer gall of a werewolf masquerading as a teacher and acting so normally. His blood wasn't meant to run both hot and cold when he looked at Lupin for any length of time. He wasn't supposed to care what a creature like that did and said. But he did anyway, and it made him furious because he didn't know why.

"I hate you," he whispered to the unheeding darkness. "I hate you. I don't hate you. I hate you." He snarled, baring his teeth angrily as he battled with his own rage and frustration. Giving up on sleep, he sat up, running a distracted hand through his hair, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, he crept towards the dormitory door. As he passed James's bed, his friend snorted and rolled over. Sirius froze, but James didn't wake.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sirius slipped out of the door and down to the common room, unheeding of the chill creeping up from the flagstones that was permeating his socked feet. He paused for a moment in front of the common room fire, staring heedlessly into the flames that were still crackling despite the lateness of the hour. Biting his lip, he hesitated, gaze flicking to the portrait hole. He could go outside, he reasoned, for a walk. It might clear his head, help him sleep. He could, perhaps, take a stroll around the castle – no one would be up at this hour; no one would know he wasn't in bed. He could…

…_He could go and see Lupin_.

The thought rose unbidden in Sirius's mind, and he swayed, eyes now fixed on the portrait hole. He could. He could go and confront that…that _thing_. Maybe it'd help get everything off his mind. If there was some kind of finite end to whatever they'd had, then it was always possible he'd be able to tolerate Lupin to some extent. Maybe even look at him without feeling a myriad of confused emotions. Sirius squared his shoulder resolutely. '_It might be for the best…_' he thought, then frowned as doubt joined company with resolve in his mind. '_But what if someone catches me? What if I end up doing something I shouldn't?_'

Although fault could be found in many of Sirius's character traits, he was not stupid. He knew full well that he was often an impulsive, manipulative spoilt brat, who let his anger lead him into trouble too much. But despite this, and despite his self-awareness, he seemed incapable of changing. It was, he had often reasoned, probably something to do with genetics, and the way he had been raised as a child. Oh, he knew that wasn't the whole of it – being friends with James Potter, who always encouraged him in his mischief making, had not helped either. But in spite of James, in spite of his family, Sirius had always felt a certain amount of helplessness when it came to his own actions. He reacted before he thought things through more often than not, and he had always wondered whether it wasn't something that came uniquely from himself that caused so much trouble. His impulsiveness was a part of him – something that could not be attributed to any outside influence.

It was this same impulsiveness that now led Sirius to ignore the more rational part of his mind that was insisting he should just go back to bed and try to sleep, and carefully push open the portrait door leading out of the common room. The Fat Lady stirred sleepily as he closed her portrait behind himself with a quiet click, but by the time she had roused herself fully, he had vanished, slipping off into the shadows of the castle.

Heart pounding, he all but ran towards where he knew Lupin's office to be. It was almost certain the other man wouldn't be there now, but, Sirius reasoned as he slipped around a corner, it was the best place to start. Ignoring the large part of his mind that was now clamouring to simply scuttle back to the safety of Gryffindor Tower, he slowed, picking his way more carefully as he neared his destination. It would not do to get caught; not now. Not until he'd had the chance to talk to Lupin and tell him exactly what he thought of him.

'_I'm crazy,_' he thought despairingly, as he skirted a pool of light on the floor, which came from a torch still lit on the wall. '_Why on earth am I doing this? What's wrong with me? I can't say anything I haven't already said._' He bit his lip. '_But maybe…maybe if I talk to him I won't be so…irritable around him. Maybe I can at least try to be civilised. Well, as civilised as I can be to an animal._' He quickened his pace again, half expecting someone to jump at him from the shadows.

It was because of his nerves and his thoughts that he nearly ran into Snape. Too busy debating with himself, it took him a moment to realise that, having rounded the final corner, he was feet away from his fellow student. Only the darkness and his bare feet had saved him from being seen or heard. Leaping back in surprise, he slipped back around the corner and pressed himself against the wall, heart pounding furiously.

"Yes," Snape was saying quietly, "I know about that."

"Then you also know that his brother would not be _entirely_ sympathetic if he found out that someone had effectively turned him in?"

Sirius blinked, surprised. He recognised the second voice – Lucius Malfoy's.

"It's surprising how strongly those two defend each other," Snape sneered, "despite being at different schools. I hear Regulus is often standing up for him, against their mother. Of course, if this whole affair was to be let slip…" He paused, leaving the sentence hanging, as though waiting for Lucius to either agree or condemn.

"If this got out, you would be the prime suspect, Severus," Lucius replied, voice smooth and diplomatic. "It's no secret that both you and Sirius dislike each other immensely, and you're in the perfect position to monitor his movements. No, perhaps you should leave it with me. If I speak to Mrs Black privately, there's a good chance that she'll persuade Sirius to join our…cause. And if not, your information might be quite useful. Blackmail often achieves the same results as bribery."

"If you're sure…" Snape sounded dubious. "But Black's not one to blackmail, Lucius. I mean, he's…well, he's crazy. It's more likely he'll refuse to cooperate if you try something like that."

Sirius, who was listening in horrified fascination, flinched as he was struck by Snape's rather accurate description. It _did_ sound like something he would do. Frowning, he shuffled a step nearer to the corner, trying to hear everything.

"And if it was only Sirius who was implicated in your information, I'd be inclined to agree with you," Lucius was saying. "However, surely Sirius will have to consider the consequences for this Professor Lupin before he rejects us. I hear the Ministry is quite stern with…improper teaching methods nowadays." He laughed quietly and Sirius snarled, a flood of anger filling him. He was going to kill Malfoy for even daring to _think_ that blackmailing him would work, and then he was going to kill Snape. As slowly as possible. Tear him limb from limb; tie him to a tree in the Forbidden Forest and leave him there; grab him by the throat and…

"Mr Snape, I believe all students should be in their beds at this time of night." The mild voice interrupted Sirius's blind fury and he paused, about to lunge around the corner and murder his fellow student.

"I was just on my way back from the library, Professor." Snape's voice was bland, with a slight sneer.

"Indeed? I believe the library closed a good few hours ago." Remus's voice was as polite as ever. "And I don't recall you receiving permission to entertain a representative of the school governors."

"That was my fault." Lucius, Sirius noted, was trying his best to sound charming, and failing to keep the revulsion out of his voice. "I ran into Severus and was asking him where the nearest bathroom was."

"It's straight down this hall. Mr Snape, I believe you should return to your dormitory, don't you? I won't take points from Slytherin this time, but if you feel inclined to go on another midnight visit to the library, I will have to speak to your Head of House. Off you go please." There was a long pause, and Sirius had to restrain himself from peering around the corner to see the look on Snape's face. Instead, he waited until he heard them all march off down the corridor, before breathing a quiet sigh of relief.

"You can come out now, Sirius."

Half leaping in fright, Sirius stuck his head around the corner. He had been sure Lupin had gone with the others, but there he stood, half in the shadow of one of the suits of armour, looking faded and very tired. Scowling, Sirius moved to stand in front of his teacher, folding his arms.

"I suppose you'll be taking points from Gryffindor for this," he spat.

"Hardly." Remus ran a hand through his hair. "It wouldn't be fair considering I let Mr Snape off with a warning."

"Oh? But surely you've got more cause to dislike me, therefore, more points to be taken off." Sirius refused to let his guard down, even if Lupin did look as though he was about to fall asleep where he stood. "I mean, it's not like fairness and morality matter to…to…people like you."

"Well at least you're acknowledging I'm a person." Lupin's voice was as weary as the rest of him.

"Hardly. I just don't know what other word to use. Creature, maybe? Monster?" Sirius took a step back as Lupin moved away from the suit of armour, towards him.

"Sirius, have I ever harmed you? Have I ever harmed _anyone_? I hardly think your opinion of me is fair, do you?" Remus sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Most of the time I'm as normal as you or your friend, James. At least, I try to be. I don't _want_ to hurt anyone! The very thought of it makes me ill. But my…condition is something I have no control over, alright? And I thought that you, of all people, might understand that."

"And why would I understand?" Sirius was pale with rage. The evening, already bad, had become worse. Lucius and Snape were going to blackmail him into doing Merlin only knew what, and it was all the fault of the man standing in front of him. Sirius wouldn't turn him in. He _knew_ what happened to teachers who messed around with students – his father had been on enough juries – and he wasn't, no matter what Lupin was, going to condemn him to imprisonment.

"Because…" Remus slumped tiredly, turning his head slightly so his face was hidden in shadow. "Because you're Sirius Black. And Sirius Black is judged for what _he_ is. And I…I stupidly assumed that maybe you got sick of everyone judging you because of your family, just like I get sick of everyone judging me because of my condition."

"I…" Sirius opened his mouth. Shut it again. He couldn't think of anything to say. He _knew_ that somehow Lupin was tricking him – manoeuvring him in some way to gain sympathy, but he couldn't come up with a sensible answer. A thousand thoughts flashed through his head in a confused jumble. '_You bloody liar…how can you stand there, so calm and confident? What if I turn you in for…for…for whatever it was you did to me? That'll teach you not to make me lose my control, that'll teach you not to make me…_' Sirius started, cutting off his own thoughts abruptly.

"I'm not you," he said eventually; roughly. "And not everyone judges me for my family. James and Peter don't."

"Don't they?" Remus's question wasn't out of a desire to hurt, but out of genuine curiosity; but to Sirius, it sounded deliberately nasty.

"No!" he hissed. "They don't." He was aware he was lying, and looked away. "Besides, it's not like you'd understand. You wouldn't. I'm sure you don't get things like loyalty and trust and _humanity_."

"Why are you like this?" Remus rubbed his eyes, his voice becoming tight with frustration. "Have I wronged you in some way? I've told you, I'm not an animal. I'm someone who has feelings and tries to be the best person he can. Why are you so convinced I'm not human? Why are you so _determined_ to belittle me as much as possible?"

"You're not an animal then, are you?" Sirius stared at him and Remus shivered, unnerved. Sirius's voice was suddenly eerily calm, his gaze calculated and cold as he gazed at Remus.

"Not an animal?" Sirius repeated. "So, if you're not an animal, Professor Lupin, how is it that you knew I was around the corner from Lucius and Snape? You can't tell me that a normal person would have sensed someone else was there; and I didn't make any noise."

"I…could smell you."

"You could smell me." Sirius's lips curved into a triumphant smile. "Yes, not at all animalistic, Professor. I'm sure all humans have such a powerful sense of smell. And they have to be locked up every full moon behind a vicious tree, of course."

Remus paled. "How do you know about that?"

"I heard Professor Fogarty talking this morning. It wasn't hard to figure out which tree he was referring to, and why." Sirius's expression was cold, but thoughtful. "You need to be more careful. If I can overhear you talking about it, so can anyone. You wouldn't want a curious student finding their way down…the passage, was it?" He frowned. "Especially not one who doesn't know what to expect."

"That won't happen," Remus said, more to convince himself than to disagree with Sirius. "It won't. No one knows about it."

"No," Sirius agreed, and this time it was he who took a step forwards. "Nobody knows. Except Dumbledore; and the rest of the staff." He smiled narrowly. "And me."

"You wouldn't tell anyone." Remus took a deep breath and glared at Sirius. "What would be the point? No one would be stupid enough to go down there once you'd said what the Willow and the passage are for, so why bother telling anyone in the first place?" He straightened, his expression determined. "And I'm going to warn Dumbledore that you know about the Whomping Willow. So if anyone gets hurt, the headmaster will know _exactly_ who's to blame."

"Oh, they'd know who was responsible," Sirius agreed. "But that wouldn't help much if you attacked someone, would it?"

"But I won't attack anyone," Remus snapped. He was tired. Tired of Sirius playing stupid, arrogant mind games with him; tired of his student's unrelenting dislike of who and what he was. It wasn't that he had never come across prejudice before, but Sirius's complete fixation of the darker side of his nature was making him both angry and depressed. Whilst it was not surprising that Sirius – raised to believe in pureblood ethics – would hold him in contempt, the other man's utter denial that there remained anything human in Remus was making him furious – something that very rarely happened.

"Oh, of course you won't!" Sirius spat. "After all, I'm sure you're quite perfectly rational at full moon, aren't you? It would never occur to you to want to bite someone? To tear them to pieces?" He took another step forwards, eyes gleaming with some strange, indiscernible emotion that Remus couldn't quite place. "After all, perfect control is what Remus Lupin is all about. He always thinks things through rationally, doesn't he? Even as a slavering, vicious beast!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" The words exploded out of Remus before he could stop them, and he shoved Sirius roughly, slamming him back against the wall. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Black."

"Don't I?" Sirius breathed, his expression a mixture of savage triumph at making Remus angry and of something softer; something Remus couldn't understand and doubted Sirius did either. "Look at you – you're angry because I've told you the truth."

"I'm angry because you've made me so!" Remus's hands fisted in Sirius's shirt and he leant closer. "You don't know what you're talking about. You know, maybe you _are_ just some spoilt little rich boy who doesn't have a clue how the world works. You don't know anything and you certainly know nothing about me."

"A spoilt little rich boy?" Sirius's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is that all you think I am?" He gripped Remus's wrist, wrenching himself free from the teacher's grasp. "Just Sirius Black, some stupid kid who doesn't have a clue how the world works? Let me tell you, Lupin, I've seen a damn sight more than you. I've seen things that would make your blood run cold." He laughed and Remus hesitated, unnerved by the anger he could sense in Sirius.

"Would you believe," the student continued, "that I came to find you this evening? Just so that I could sort everything out, at least to my satisfaction. _I_ came looking for _you_, and the worst of it is, I'm not even sure why now. Was it really to sort things out? Or was it just to make you as angry as me?"

"Well you've certainly succeeded if that's the case!" Remus snapped, turning his back on Sirius. "Get back to bed, Sirius, or…"

"Or what?" Sirius demanded. "You'll take House points? Oh, I'm scared. Go ahead, take them; see if I care."

"Will you just _leave_?" Remus yelled, spinning to face Sirius again. "Just _leave me alone_!" His voice echoed down the corridor, causing a nearby portrait to wake long enough to shoot both men an indignant glare and demand they both be quiet because some people were trying to sleep. Sirius froze at the tone of Remus's voice, then glared, his expression darkening dangerously.

"Fine," he said, and his voice was a venomous hiss. "Fine, I'll leave." He crossed the intervening space between himself and Lupin in two swift strides. Gripping his teacher's arm, he leant forwards. "But you'd better be careful, Professor – I'm not going to tell anyone about your secret, but if others were to work it out…they might not keep as quiet about it as I have. And I certainly won't defend you."

Instead of flinching away as Sirius expected him to do, Lupin leant forwards, bending his head close to his pupil's. "I wouldn't expect you to," he hissed back, and his expression was as Sirius had never seen it before – coldly furious and slightly bitter. "To be honest, I've learnt my lesson about expecting anything from you." They were almost nose-to-nose and Sirius could see the faint flecks of gold in Lupin's eyes that he'd never noticed before.

"Well you shouldn't have expected anything in the first place," he growled in return, suddenly, uncomfortably aware of how close they were.

"As I said," Remus snarled, mouth kiss-close to Sirius's, "I know that now." Ignoring the slight hitch in Sirius's breathing he shoved his student away, not bothering to wait for a reply. Turning on his heel, he marched away down the corridor, his angry footfalls echoing away to nothing in the vastness of the castle.

Sirius stared after him, breathing hard.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself.

AaAaAaAa

"It is Christmas Eve," James said cheerfully, "and I will not have you lounging about the place brooding and sulking as you have for the past couple of days."

"Or indeed for the past term," Peter muttered under his breath, then hastily returned to his essay as Sirius spat out a mouthful of his own hair and turned his head to glare at him.

"So," James continued, oblivious to the interruption, "you either tell me what's wrong or I'll be forced to hurt you some more; and as we can both see, your previous attempts at self-defence have hardly been what I'd call a success." He beamed as Sirius uttered several choice – if somewhat muffled – curses in his direction, and then simply grabbed the back of his friend's head and shoved his face back down into the rug on the Common Room floor. "Tired of eating carpet yet?" he added blithely.

Sirius retorted with something that sounded suspiciously like 'bugger off', and flailed his limbs, completely failing to hit James, who was sitting comfortably in the middle of his back. Giving up, he went limp, and James leant forwards enough to peer suspiciously at the side of Sirius's head, trying to see his face.

"I think you've suffocated him," Peter said helpfully. "He's gone all red from what I can see from over here."

"He has?" James scrambled off Sirius, who rolled onto his back, wheezing. "Oops."

"I'll…get you for that…Potter…" Sirius managed. "Once…I've got my…breath back." He groaned, clutching his stomach. "Gods you're heavy. How can someone so skinny weigh so much? I thought you were going to snap my spine." He glared at James, his face slowly returning to its normal colour. "I could sue you for grievous bodily assault or something," he added, not really meaning it.

"Right," James said dubiously. "And you don't think Snape wouldn't have already done that if he could?"

Sirius scowled. "Well, it seems to me that Snape has new friends now – ones who answer to a higher authority than any mere legal system."

"Ah _hah_!" James crowed. "Is this what's annoying you? Has Snape been invited around to your house during the holidays or something? Is he suddenly friends with some of the higher up aristocrats, maybe?" He paused, expression falling. "He hasn't somehow been talking to Regulus, has he?" He looked so worried that Sirius had to smile.

"No, don't be daft. I think even my stupid younger brother knows that associating with Snape is not something that one does. It's…" Sirius hesitated, biting his lip. He could tell James what the matter was – it was likely his friend would be able to help him somehow. But on the other hand, Peter would have to be let in on the problem as well, and Peter, Sirius knew, would want to go straight to Dumbledore about it. Then again, if he made both of them swear not to tell anyone…

"It is to do with Snape," he admitted at length, and James looked faintly pleased to have his suspicions confirmed. "But it's…also to do with something else, as well."

"Something…" James paused, trying to find a suitably non-descript way of placing his question, "…to do with, ah, a certain person's little…problem?" He stared hard at Sirius, hoping he would get the point: the Common Room was not really the place to talk about such things.

"Yes." Sirius nodded abruptly. "It's to do with that, too."

"Upstairs?" Peter suggested from where he had been listening.

"Upstairs," James confirmed, jerking his head towards the stairs to the dormitory.

"Right," Sirius agreed, and scrambled to his feet. Leading the way up the stairs, he ushered James and Peter into the dormitory, slamming and locking the door behind them. Sighing, he leant against the reassuring thickness of the wood and stared at his two closest friends. There was a long pause during which Sirius tried to think of where to start and Peter looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"So, what's the problem?" James asked as the silence lengthened and Sirius appeared to be reluctant to break it.

"The problem," Sirius began reluctantly, "is Professor Lupin."

"I'm not going to get smacked if I freak out about whatever you're going to tell us, am I?" There was a note of hesitancy in James's voice. "Because I really, _really_ don't want to know about what goes on between you two –"

"_It's nothing like that_!"

"Oh good, because, I mean, I may be nice and kind and wonderful and all that –" (there was a loud 'hmph' from Peter) "– but, you know, even the most fantastic of people occasionally… don't want to hear things. And I'm digging myself into a hole, I can tell by the look on your face, so I'm just going to shut up."

"Good," Sirius said, a little more sharply than he'd intended, then immediately looked repentant. "Sorry James."

"Eh." James waves a gracious hand. "People snap at me all the time. You; McGonagall; Professor Sinn; Peter; Lily…the list is endless. A man gets used to such things." He squinted thoughtfully. "But we're getting off topic. You wanted to tell us what the matter was?" Figuring that kindly was the way to go, he smiled benignly at Sirius, who only looked more uncomfortable. Peter attempted to vanish into the camouflage of the furniture – it was sometimes the best thing to do when Sirius was about to confess something he didn't really want others to know. Not being noticeable – and thus not being a target – was definitely something Peter approved of when it came to Sirius.

Sirius drew a deep breath. "Snape's going to try and blackmail me," he said without preamble, "probably using Lupin as the means of blackmailing."

"You mean he'll threaten to rat on the two of you if you don't do as he says?" James frowned. "That sounds a bit…odd. No offence Sirius, but what can he possibly want you to do? Apart from stop hexing him, maybe."

"I…I'm not sure." Sirius's shoulders slumped and he looked at James helplessly. "He was talking to Lucius Malfoy and I, er, happened to overhear them."

"Well the solution's simple." Peter figured that – becoming a potential target or no – he should offer his opinion. "Why don't you just tell Dumbledore about you and Lupin? That way Snape won't have anything to blackmail you with."

"He has a point," James said slowly. "But it would mean a hell of a lot of trouble for Lupin. Dumbledore couldn't turn a blind eye to what you two have been up to." Sirius flinched, and James caught the movement. "I'm sorry." He shrugged. "But it's true. Besides which, I bet the law would come down on Professor Lupin much harder than if he was just a normal bloke. Doesn't seem fair, but facts are facts."

"Which is precisely why I don't want to tell anyone," Sirius said firmly. "I may not like what he is, but I'm not going to destroy him. Not actively, anyway." His expression softened slightly, and both James and Peter exchanged startled looks. "Besides, he…" Sirius hesitated and looked nervously between his two friends. "He's…maybe not that bad when he's making a point" he admitted with extreme reluctance.

"And just what brought about this change in heart?" James's voice was dry and a little sceptical.

"He said a few things when I last spoke to him that made me think," Sirius admitted. "And whilst some of what he said was a load of rubbish, there were…a couple of things that hit a little too close to home." He frowned. "But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere near him," he added. "I still think he's a disgusting, lying, vicious, monster and I'm just aiming to prove him wrong, anyway."

"Right." Peter looked dubious. "Which is why you won't solve your own problem by simply turning him in."

"I've told you already I'm not going to do that because it's not the right thing to do!" Sirius snapped.

"Anyway," James added, cutting in before Sirius could get angry, "we don't know what Snape's trying to blackmail Sirius into doing. Maybe it'd be better to wait until we know for sure before we do anything."

"But I don't _want_ to wait! I want to tear the slimy little snake into bloody pieces!" Sirius's expression was getting darker by the second. "And take Lucius down with him," he added, to which Peter made a vague noise of agreement. "I mean, Merlin only knows what they're plotting. Malfoy kept going on about their 'cause' – I mean, what the hell can have got Snape so worked up that he'd join a cause and want me to do so too? And clearly my family are involved in some way because when are they _not_ –"

"Your family!" James exclaimed, slapping his forehead in exasperation. Peter stared at him and Sirius blinked, nonplussed by the sudden interruption and change in the conversation. "Sirius you prat, you're meant to be getting your arse down to Hogsmeade to get your present from your brother." There was a long pause as Sirius stared blankly at James, clearly struggling to remember.

"Sorry, what?" he asked eventually.

"Regulus! You told me that he said to go down to the village – something about a cave and sending your Christmas present."

"Argh!" Sirius let out a yelp of panic. "Oh no, I might have missed it! What if the present's already arrived? What if someone's taken it?" He spun around, scrabbling at the locked door. "Quick, James, lend me your cloak, I'll take good care of it, but I don't want to get caught by Filch or his bloody cat."

"We'll come with you," Peter offered, not entirely sure that Sirius could be trusted not to get distracted from his purpose and do a detour to, say, the Slytherin Dungeons to play a few well deserved pranks. He grabbed the cloak from James, who had dragged it out of his school trunk, and offered it to his friend, who snatched it without a second glance, letting out a triumphant cry as he managed to unlock the dormitory door.

"No time, you'd just slow me down. I've got to be back before lights out." Sirius's expression was distracted.

"Bloody hell!" James practically exploded for a second time as Sirius stepped outside. "Sirius, you can't go to Hogsmeade!"

"Why the hell not?" Sirius snapped, already heading towards the stairs.

"It's full moon, isn't it? What if Lupin's out in the grounds somewhere?"

"Now James, be reasonable, I hardly think Dumbledore would let a werewolf roam free around the school grounds," Peter began, as Sirius spoke at the same time.

"He's not," he said bluntly. "He's safe somewhere."

"How do you know?" There was a faint note of hysteria in James's voice.

"I just do." Sirius's voice became muffled as he flung the cloak around himself, covering his body and head. "Besides," he added, "I've got my wand, I'll be safe."

"Are you sure?" Peter squinted in the direction of Sirius's voice.

There was a long pause.

"Sirius?" James prodded. "Did you hear Peter?" Silence was his only reply.

"I think," Peter said carefully, moving well away just in case James exploded, "he's already gone."

AaAaAaAa

"Bloody Snape, bloody Lucius, bloody, bloody werewolves," Sirius muttered to himself.

He was hurrying along the edge of the Forbidden Forest; James's invisibility cloak tucked securely under one arm. The night air was freezing, and he was starting to wish he'd thought to bring his school cloak. Little puffs of frozen air emitted whenever he spoke, and he scowled, trying to warm his fingers through willpower alone, before he got so distracted that he slipped on the damp grass and nearly fell.

"Sod," he hissed, regaining his equilibrium by steadying himself against a nearby tree. Squinting ahead, he tried to determine how far it was to the edge of the school grounds, but the light, despite the full moon, was extremely poor and he could only make out the hulking shape of the line of trees, marching away into the darkness. Giving up, he stood, shivering, trying to decide whether he should just give up and go back to the warmth of the Gryffindor Common Room, or carry on since he'd come this far already.

'_Onwards and upwards,_' he resolved after a moment's indecision, '_and just try not to think of werewolves._' Almost in spite of himself, he glanced at the moon, then frowned. '_No use thinking about that_,' he told himself sternly, '_if Lupin had got out somehow, I'm sure I'd be dead by now. So he hasn't. Which means I should get a move on. Come on Black, you can't stand here like a twit all day._' Pleased to have that resolved, he squared his shoulders, hefted James's cloak over one shoulder, and began moving again, trying not to wonder if anyone had seen him from the school.

He had just managed to cut across towards the gamekeeper's hut, when something rustled in the bushes behind him. Heart pounding, Sirius froze.

'_Oh please dear god, don't let it be a teacher. I'm already in enough trouble and I really don't want to be in…_'

"Black?" a sneering, disbelieving voice echoed from behind him. Sirius spun around, his expression a mixture of relief and disgust.

"_Snape,_" he hissed, "what on earth are you doing out here at this time of night?"

Snape's face was pale with what – Sirius assumed – was fright, but he was clearly quickly regaining his confidence. He stepped clear of the bushes completely, brushing down his robes with the typical fastidiousness that made him an excellent student of Potions. Sirius sneered at the sight, his heart still hammering painfully in his chest from the fright Snape had given him. His adrenalin, still mixed with a healthy dose of terror, made him less than sympathetic towards his fellow student.

"Well?" he snapped.

"I was…" Snape's dark eyes flickered to one side, "…out collecting several ingredients I need for a potion. They can only be gathered at full moon. And you?" he raised an eyebrow as Sirius glared at him. "You seem in rather a hurry. Off to meet…someone?"

"Implying what, exactly?" Sirius drew himself up to his full height, already beginning to feel the irrational anger that emerged whenever he was around Snape. "Got a problem with a bloke having a walk to get some fresh air, have you?"

"Not at all." Snape smiled nastily. "If that's actually the case. My bet is that you're probably up to something different, however. So like you, Sirius, to be sneaking around. A fine, deceitful wizard you make. But then, lying does run in the family genes, doesn't it? I suppose you can't really be blamed for faults that are hereditary." He smirked as Sirius's expression darkened. "So where are you really off to then? Let's see, shall we? Sneaking around, off to somewhere reasonably remote, no doubt; _clearly_ meeting someone. Ah, I think I'm beginning to see some kind of an answer."

"What the hell are you on about?" Sirius's voice was low; dangerous.

"Well," Snape shrugged elegantly. "You obviously don't want anyone to find out that you're meeting someone, which begs the questions, is it someone that society doesn't approve of?"

"I never said I was meeting anyone!" Sirius took a step forwards but Snape remained where he was, not intimidated.

"No, but one can only assume that this is the case." Snape's smile was a slow, malicious thing. "And I can think of only one person who fits the description of such secrecy. Someone that, should the truth be found out, could suffer tremendously."

"Don't you dare say another word." There was a savageness in Sirius's voice. He knew where this was going – he could see from the way Snape was positively enjoying himself. "I mean it, I don't care what you think, but you even dare to suggest…"

"Lupin," Snape interjected smoothly. "That's who you're going to meet, isn't it? And you don't want anyone to know, in case he gets into trouble. Could cause quite a scandal, couldn't it? The Black heir and some common teacher, found to be having indecent relationships. Of course Professor Lupin would probably be imprisoned, and quite rightly so in my opinion. After all, we wouldn't want to put any other students at risk."

"Shut up!" Sirius's voice was rough. "He's not like that and you bloody well know it!"

"Do I?" Snape spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "I've only got your word for it. But if you're really sure, maybe I can be persuaded to keep quiet about my…concerns. For now."

"You utter bastard!"

"Maybe." Dark eyes glittered maliciously as Snape enjoyed Sirius's discomfort. "But you've got to admit, Black, I know what you two are up to, and unless you do as I say, things could go horribly wrong for you and Lupin."

"And if I refuse to dance to your twisted little tune? If I say you have no proof or that I don't give a damn about what happens to Re– Professor Lupin?"

"Well, you'd be lying, wouldn't you?" The absolute certainty in Snape's voice stopped Sirius in his proverbial tracks. "You clearly care for him, Black; even if you're trying to convince the world and yourself that you don't. So, why don't you be a good little Gryffindor and tell me everything. Tell me all I'll ever need to know about your sordid little affair, and then I'll agree to keep quiet whilst I can still find some use for you."

"I'd hardly tell you anything, even if there was anything to tell," Sirius muttered, but Snape's words had shocked him; made him less certain. Why was the other boy so sure that Sirius gave a damn about what happened to Lupin? Why, when it got right down to it, didn't Sirius just follow Peter's advice and simply turn Lupin in? In that moment, Sirius hated Snape more than he ever had before, because Snape had found Sirius's weakest point and exposed it ruthlessly, showing Sirius himself just how vulnerable he was when it came to Lupin.

"If you don't tell me," Snape said silkily, "I'll go straight to Dumbledore with what I already know. Which is more than enough to condemn the both of you."

"You wouldn't dare." Sirius struggled to regain his confidence. "I'd kill you first."

"I'd like to see you try, Black."

Sirius laughed, hollowly. "I'm sure you would, Snape." He paused, eye caught by something in the distance, outlined against the night sky. "But then again," he continued slowly, "the circumstances if you were found murdered would be, for me, entirely damning."

"Quite," Snape said briskly. "So why don't you just tell me, Black? And we'll start from there."

"Tell you?" Sirius replied calmly, turning suddenly unfathomable eyes on Snape, who shivered, in spite of himself. Black's expression was almost eerily serene, but menace lurked under the calm façade. Sirius Black, Snape was suddenly quite sure, really _was_ mad. Either that or he had been driven past the point of sanity by anger and frustration, one of the two. Either way, Snape didn't feel as confident any more.

"Where were you meant to be meeting Lupin?" he managed.

"In some place hidden." Sirius smiled; a sudden, brilliant, unnerving smile. "So listen carefully, Snape," he said. "I'm going to tell you a secret."

**To Be Continued…**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**CB:** Free time so I'm indulging in it and attempting to get this fic finished. Enjoy!

'_Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live._'

- **Dorothy Thompson**

"Exactly where are going?" Snape demanded as he and Sirius headed back up towards the school. The air was cold and he shivered, not appreciating the fact that he was alone with a fellow student who, from his point of view at least, did not seem entirely sane. Sirius kept _smiling_ at him, his expression almost eerily serene as he shrugged in response to Snape's question and simply nodded towards the school.

"This way," he said. "You did want to see where I'm meeting Lupin, didn't you? Not backing out now, are you Snape?" He grinned, and although the expression was reasonably friendly, it did nothing to reassure Snape, who was quite certain Sirius was up to something. No one, he reasoned, following Black, readily gave up their secrets so they could be used against them. Least of all Sirius Black. No; Sirius, Snape was certain, was up to something; and whilst it was unnerving to have to play along with Black's plan – whatever it might be – Snape was certain that the situation could still be turned to his advantage. Sirius was, after all, more emotional than rational, and Snape was sure that it would not take long for his enemy to slip up, be it verbally or with some careless action.

"It's quite a strange place to meet," Sirius said suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence that had grown up. "But it's relatively safe – it means no one would be able to find us." He laughed, somewhat bitterly. "Safe," he repeated.

"What are you babbling about?" Snape frowned as Sirius came to an abrupt halt, turning to look at him. "Look, where _are_ we going? Be honest, Black, you've got no intention of showing me where you and Lupin are meant to be meeting." Brutal honesty was, Snape felt, the only way to deal with someone like Sirius.

"Aren't I?" Sirius stared at him for a long moment, his face pale in the moonlight. Suddenly he sighed, his expression relaxing into something far more like the usual mask of disdain he always wore when around Snape. "Look," he said almost kindly, "are you sure you really want to know where Lupin and I were meeting? To be honest I don't think it's worth the trouble."

Snape blinked, somewhat nonplussed. Black sounded almost as though he was genuinely trying to allow him to retreat from the situation with dignity. It was unnerving. Yet Sirius's sincerity also fuelled Snape's curiosity; why was Black trying to get him to leave? There was the most obvious reason: that Sirius was probably unwilling to give him anymore blackmail material, but Snape suspected something else was forcing Black to be so…considerate.

"Why would it be trouble?" he said eventually, raising an eyebrow. "Surely it will only be Lupin there. Why the concern?" He smiled, making the expression deliberately nasty, and watched with some satisfaction as Sirius's eyes hardened at the sight.

"Well…" Sirius shrugged and turned away. "There won't be any trouble, of course." He nodded up the hill. "We're almost there."

Snape squinted, trying to make out the shape ahead. He could see the castle lit up against the night sky, but off to one side, nearer to them, was another shape. It crouched, low and menacing, a silhouette against the vague light of the moon. Sirius had begun to walk again, delicately picking his way towards the shape which was – Snape's eyes strained to make it out – _moving_. He frowned; suddenly horribly aware that he was vulnerable should Black and his friends be playing another practical joke. He was one against three – if you counted Pettigrew as a human being, which Snape often didn't.

Reaching for his wand, Snape drew it out from his pocket, keeping a close eye on Sirius, who was still walking away from him. Alert for any signs of mischief, he followed a few paces behind.

It took him a moment to realise that Sirius had stopped some feet from the shape, and it was another heartbeat before he saw exactly what Black was standing in front of. Eyes widening, Snape took an involuntary step backwards.

"You're meeting him here?"

"Not quite." Sirius's expression was unreadable and his tone of voice gave away nothing. "I don't think it would be very subtle to meet under the Whomping Willow, do you?" His lips thinned as he stared at Snape, grey eyes cold. "I told you, where we're meeting is relatively safe. No one would really be able to find the place unless they knew how." One shoulder lifted in a half shrug as Snape stared at him, unnerved.

"Where exactly are you taking me then?"

"I'm not taking you any further." Sirius's lips twisted in a cruel smile and he held up a hand to forestall Snape, who had opened his mouth to protest. "Oh, I'll tell you how to get the rest of the way, but you're on your own now."

"Why? Why won't you come? After all, it's you that's meant to be meeting him, not me." Suspicion was rising fast in Snape's mind, blotting out the normal distaste he felt for Sirius as he stared at him, his instincts telling him to go, run, be anywhere but here with this enemy. Sirius Black was not to be trusted; Snape knew that, but he also knew that if he didn't listen to Sirius now, there was a good chance he'd never be this close to discovering the whole sordid affair between Black and Lupin again. Most of his accusations had been made based on guesswork, but Sirius's reaction had shown him that his suspicions had been correct.

"I'm not coming because I don't…" Sirius trailed off, and for the first time his gaze left Snape, dropping to the floor, but not before Severus had seen the flash of guilt and consternation that flitted across his face. Sirius drew a deep breath. "I don't want him to know who's betrayed him," he finished. "That's all I ask, Snape. Don't tell him who told you about…this."

"And why shouldn't I?" Snape was still alert for tricks, but the sudden sincerity in Sirius's voice made him pause. "Why don't I ruin the both of you further? I bet Lupin would love to know who told me about the two of you. Maybe I should let it slip."

"Don't!" True panic flared in Sirius's eyes before he bit his lip, the expression fading back to disinterest. "Fine. Tell." He shrugged and turned away. "I just thought you might do me that one favour."

"Maybe," Snape conceded. "Now tell me how to find Lupin. You've been very helpful so far Black, suspiciously so. Don't think I don't realise you're up to something." He smiled nastily and raised his wand. Sirius frowned when he saw it, but said nothing. "So don't think I'm not ready for any trick you might be about to play on me."

There was a long pause, and only the sound of the rustling of the Willow broke the silence. Eventually, Sirius smiled. It was a slow, cruel, calculated smile and Snape shivered in spite of himself, unease crawling down his spine. Still smiling, Sirius turned, taking a step closer to the tree, which creaked menacingly. Snape waited with bated breath, expecting Black to get hit by one of the branches, which was shivering violently. Surprisingly, however, Sirius didn't. Instead, he picked a long branch off of the ground and handed it to Snape.

"There's a knot," he said, "on the tree. If you poke it with this branch, it allows you to get to some kind of door that leads down underground. That's where Lupin and I were planning to meet. It's a clever hiding place, don't you think?"

"You're lying!" Snape spat. "As soon as I go near that thing I'll get bludgeoned to death."

"No you won't." The eerie smile on Sirius's face didn't fade as he took the branch back. "Here, I'll show you." Striding forwards, he dodged a branch that made a swipe at his head, and poked the stick sharply at the trunk of the tree. Immediately, the branches stilled, frozen in place. Sirius waved a hand towards the base of the tree and Snape squinted, just able to make out a dark gap between the roots – it was large enough to admit a decent sized human.

"You see?" Sirius stepped back out of range as the Whomping Willow's branches shivered and began to move again. "That's how you get in." He laughed. "I would say trust me, but of course you don't, and rightly so." Tossing the stick to Snape, he turned on his heel, heading back the way he'd came, away from the castle. "Think about it Snape," he called over his shoulder. "I could be playing the greatest joke on you in history. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm telling the truth and you'll find Lupin down there. And then you'll get exactly what you deserve. You'll know everything."

Sirius's figure rapidly disappeared into the dark of the night, leaving Snape standing next to the Whomping Willow, stick in hand, wondering what to do.

AaAaAaAa

"I don't understand it," James said, moodily swinging his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of his bed. "Sirius should be back by now. If anything's happened to my cloak, I'm going to kill him. I bet he's ripped it, and now he can't face me so he's hiding out in a classroom somewhere or something."

"I doubt it," Peter replied, only half listening to James's complaints as he contemplated his Divinations textbook. "That cloak is almost as valuable to him as it is to you. How many pranks would have gone undone without the help of that cloak? Trust me; Sirius places too high a value on it to do something as careless as rip it." He sighed, hefting the textbook in one hand. "Do you think Professor Sinn's _really_ going to test us on Chapter Twelve after Christmas?"

"Forget Divinations!" James snapped. "This is highly important, Peter! Sirius has vanished without a trace and he has my cloak! That's been in my family for years! What will happen if I tell my dad it's gone missing, eh?"

"Look, just because Sirius has been gone a little longer than expected doesn't mean he's fled the country," Peter said, patience wearing thin. "It's probably just taking him a bit of time to bring whatever it is Regulus has got him back up to the castle. It's probably something big and expensive – you know what Blacks are like, they try to make an impact wherever possible, even on their own family. It's probably a solid gold broom or some such nonsense."

"I don't think even the Blacks could afford a solid gold broom," James retorted, not appeased in the least. "Look, maybe we should go have a peek outside – see if he's coming."

"He's wearing an invisibility cloak." Peter's voice was suffused with long-suffering weariness as he pointed out the obvious to James, who was already off the bed and moving towards the door at speed. "You won't see him!" He shouted after his friend's rapidly disappearing back. James's reply was muffled as the dormitory door thudded shut behind him, and Peter groaned. Heaving himself of his bed and tossing his Divinations textbook on the bedside table, he trotted after James, who had made it as far as the portrait hole and was already climbing through.

"What if we get caught?" he demanded, clambering through after James and shutting the portrait behind him.

"We won't. Anyway, we're still allowed out of the common room – it's not that late."

"Yes, but we're not allowed outside," Peter pointed out as he and James clattered down the staircase leading to the entrance hall.

"Well we won't be very far outside. We'll just stand on the top step and see if we can see him coming."

"I _told_ you, we won't be able to see him coming! He'll be wearing the…" Peter trailed off and lowered his voice as they passed a gaggle of Third Year's loitering in the hall. "He'll be wearing the you-know-what," he finished, as James grasped one of the great bronze handles and heaved the main door to the castle open. Peter shivered at the immediate gust of wind, and quietly vowed vengeance on James for making him go outside in mid-winter. Neither of them had thought to bring a cloak.

"I'll know if he's coming," James said confidently, tugging the door shut behind them. "I'll be able to sense him – or at the very least sense my cloak. I have highly attuned senses; I _know_ when someone's watching me. And I bet Sirius wouldn't miss the chance to play a prank on us if he's wearing the cloak, so watch out for sudden frights coming from a north easterly direction."

"You should have been a weatherman," Peter commented sourly, folding his arms and hugging himself in an attempt to stay warm. The night air was bitterly cold, and the stars glittered like diamonds. A frost was already gathering one the grass at the foot of the steps leading back up to the door, and Peter glared at James, who had begun to amuse himself by making footprints on the frozen ground.

"Cheer up Pete," James said at last, pausing in his entertainment to blink owlishly at his friend. "I'm sure he won't be too much longer."

"Well if he won't be too much longer then why don't we wait inside?" Peter grumbled. "I mean it's not like –" He was cut off abruptly as James held a hand in the air, his expression changing from amused to focused in the blink of an eye.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, his expression intent as he gazed out across the open lawn towards the forbidden Forest.

"Hear what?" Peter hissed, climbing reluctantly down the steps to stand next to him.

"That!" James flapped a hand frantically, and as he did so, Peter heard a faint rustle of movement, coming from the trees.

"Right," he squeaked. "I think we should go in now. Something's moving in the Forbidden Forest and we're standing out here in the cold, alone, and with no defence – not even our wands. And that's your fault by the way because you were in such a hurry to see whether Sirius had damaged your cloak. So let's just back up the steps slowly and go indoors, where whatever bloodthirsty monster it is in there can't eat us, ok?"

"Peter, you're babbling." James's gaze never left the trees, and Peter whimpered as he started walking towards them. "Come on, I want to find out what it is. Nothing should be this close to the school."

"What if it's dangerous?" Terror would have rooted Peter to the spot had not fear for James's safety outweighed it. Reluctantly, he followed his friend.

"I'm sure it won't be," James assured him. "After all, I doubt it's a werewolf or anything."

"Werewolves," Peter moaned. "You had to mention werewolves. Now I've got images of being torn to pieces by Professor Lupin. Thank you very much James Potter. If I die – which is likely because I think I'm going to expire from fright any moment now – I hope you realise not only will my descendants have vengeance, but my ghost will haunt you forever. I hope you can live with that."

"Peter," James said impatiently, "you don't have any descendants. Stop talking nonsense and –" He broke off, looking somewhat disconcerted. "Did you just hear something else?"

"Apart from the rustling noises you heard earlier? No." Peter edged behind James, a small part of him hoping that if it was something dangerous in the forest, it would go after his friend first, leaving him safe to make good his escape.

"No, listen." James took another step forwards. "It's voices. Human voices."

Peter strained to listen and there, quite clear on the night air, was the sound of conversation.

"– and I've already told you that no means no. So if you don't shut up about it, you're banned from my flat for the rest of the term," one voice announced coldly.

"You can't do that!" spluttered a second. "You don't honestly expect me to stay at home in the evening with my sister, her husband and their horrible kids, do you?"

"What you do will be entirely up to you if you don't shut up and stop complaining!" the first voice snapped. "Although," the tone softened slightly, "at least you admit they're horrible children."

"That's beside the point." The owner of the second voice was clearly sulking. "How could you even think of banning me. It's not fair."

"Will you stop whining? You're not five, and sulking doesn't become you either, so stop pulling faces. If I say you're banned, you're banned. And don't think I won't change the wards on my door, because I will. Dumbledore will let me, and it might give me five minutes peace for a change if you're not there." There was the rustle of movement and the crunch of footsteps as whoever was talking began to move closer to where Peter and James were standing. Peter tugged urgently at James's sleeve, but his friend simply shook him off impatiently.

"Sinn, this is clearly an abuse of our friendship. Would I ever ban you from my house? No. Of course I wouldn't. And especially not over something as stupid as this."

There was a hiss of indignation and Sinn's voice took on a distinctly icy tone. "I would hardly call this stupid, Pyrrhus Anthony Fogarty. Now you will say no more about it, or I'll be forced to spell your mouth shut, as well as ban you."

"You wouldn't! Er…would you?"

"Yes! Now shut up and do your job."

James's lips twitched in amusement as he listened to the sullen muttering that followed this statement, before his expression changed to one of panic as Sinn emerged from the forest, dragging a disgruntled Mars by the collar. The sight of the taller Sports teacher being hauled along by someone shorter than himself would have been more amusing had Sinn not, at that moment, caught sight of the students standing close by. He froze, expression hardening from mere annoyance to something that was clearly bordering on true anger.

"What are you two doing out here?" he demanded, releasing Mars's collar in favour of pointing an accusatory finger at the guilty pair. Peter groaned, fervently wishing it had been anyone but Sinn who had found them. The Divinations teacher terrified him with his sour, sarcastic nature and low tolerance for poor work. Hoping that it was all some kind of terrible dream, or perhaps simply a hallucination, he shuffled his feet and stared hard at the ground, waiting for James to come up with an excuse.

"Er…that is…" James fumbled for an explanation as Sinn glowered at him, and Mars frowned. "We…um…we wanted a bit of a walk and felt that the…er…fresh air would do us good."

"A bit late for a walk, isn't it?" Suspicion dripped from Sinn's voice like acid honey, and Peter flinched, aware that James's poor excuse was not fooling anyone.

"Not really. Peter and I felt it would help us sleep…" James trailed off, wilting somewhat under Sinn's disbelieving gaze.

"Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous it is to be out at this time of night and this close to the Forbidden Forest?" Sinn's voice was rising dangerously, and Peter thought he saw Mars shuffle back a step, away from his friend. "There is a reason it is called the Forbidden Forest, and it is not to encourage foolish students such as yourself to gallivant around in it after dark when you could be ripped to shreds by any number of creatures! I know you are not stupid, Mr Potter, but sometimes you do give a remarkable impression of it!"

"Well you were in it too," James blurted out before he could stop himself, then clapped a hand over his mouth in a belated attempt to stop the words escaping. Peter thought he saw Mars shake his head sadly, and silently bid a fond farewell to his life.

"I," Sinn said slowly, "am doing my job. And my job is to patrol the grounds to make sure stupid students such as yourselves do not do something dangerous. I think it's just as well I was out here, don't you? Now get back inside before I tie you both to a tree and leave you for the first creature that comes along." The positively psychotic glint in his eyes convinced Peter he wasn't making an idle threat.

"Right," James agreed, backing away hastily. "We're going back inside right now. Straight away, Professor. No more running around after dark. You have my word." He flinched as Sinn grabbed one of his arms, marching him back towards the school.

They had just reached the door to the entrance hall – Sinn in front, one hand still gripping James's arm, Peter and Mars trailing behind – when Mars paused, turning on his heel to squint out into the dark. Peter, who was watching him closely in case the Sports teacher felt the sudden urge to carry out Sinn's threat, noticed the widening of blue eyes and the sudden stiffening as Mars's expression shifted from faintly amused to something that looked very much like panic.

"Sinn," he said, and the other teacher turned at once, clearly aware that something was wrong. Mars's voice held none of its normal cheerfulness.

"What is it?" he asked, letting go of James's arm in favour of stalking back down the steps.

"Look at the tree. Look at it!" Mars pointed out across the grounds. Both Peter and James strained their eyes to see in the dark. "It's not moving."

"Oh my god." Sinn's voice shook. Turning sharply on his heel he glared at James and Peter. "Get back inside!" he barked. "Now! And shut the door. Go and find Dumbledore and tell him someone's discovered the knot. He'll know what I mean. It's extremely important you do that, alright?" He hissed in frustration as they both stared at him, speechless. "Go now!" he yelled, and James, startled into action as much by the urgency in Sinn's voice as the noise, grabbed Peter by the arm and hauled him bodily up the steps.

"What the hell's going on? Do you think someone's gone down there?" he heard Mars ask as he hauled open the door. Sinn's reply was grim – barely audible as the thick wood thudded shut behind himself and Peter.

"I don't know. I don't know how someone found out, and I don't know if they've gone down there, but we've got to find out. Now."

AaAaAaAa

Sirius stalked back towards Hogsmeade, his heart thudding in his chest as he walked blindly, his mind a chaotic jumble.

'_It serves Snape right,_' he thought angrily, '_meddling where he isn't wanted._' He didn't care what happened. Let Snape think it was a trick if he wanted – it was, in a way. A small, cold part of Sirius felt inordinately smug at this thought. Either way, Snape would get the shock of his life. He'd either not bother going down under the Whomping Willow, and then regret it for the rest of his life, or go and meet with everything he deserved. Whatever might happen, Sirius didn't care. There was a deep, primal satisfaction that tainted this thought, along with the vicious sense of a job well done. It was effectively getting rid of Snape, whatever the outcome.

'_I hate him,_' he thought, fury blinding him to all else for a moment as he paused, hands clenched into fists. '_How dare he try to blackmail me! He should learn not to mess with the Blacks. It'll serve the slimy little worm right. I hope he gets the shock of his life_.' He laughed softly to himself. '_He might even get hurt. Just a little._' His lips thinned, the amusement falling from his face as he stopped abruptly. '_And that would serve him right too, but…but…_' But something wasn't right. Sirius could sense it. Generations of Black were screaming in his mind for him to simply walk away. Leave Snape to whatever mischief he had gotten himself into. It would serve him right, he knew it would. But something was wrong. Sirius had missed something when he'd had the brilliant idea of sending Snape off down the Whomping Willow. What was it?

He frowned, struggling to work around the problem. Snape would go down under the Whomping Willow and meet with a fully grown werewolf, proving that curiosity really does kill the proverbial cat. This wasn't a bad thing, it would scare him, probably even scar him, and this was something that Sirius, even in a moment of lucidity, could not regret wanting to inflict on Snape. He hated the other boy. Part of it was simply irrational – he knew that; there had been a mutual dislike from the moment they had met. But another part of it arose from the fact that Sirius had no desire to play along with whatever twisted little scheme Snape had concocted with Lucius. Sirius hated being manipulated – his mother had done just that to him for most of his childhood, and it had only been after he had escaped to Hogwarts that he had learned that he could say no to her demands. Snape was doubly damned, therefore, because he had tried to trap him, and this was something Sirius would not – could not – tolerate.

So, his plan, his clever, ingenious plan that would rid him of Snape one way or another, with no evidence save Snape's word that would point to him. Snape would be suitably punished, and perhaps it would be a lesson to anyone else foolish enough to try and force him into a corner. Blackmail, people would soon learn, did not work on Sirius Black. Snape's meeting with Lupin would soon prove that…

Lupin.

Remus.

The thought hit Sirius like a splash of ice water, jarring him from his pleasant contemplation of Snape as an example to others.

He'd sent Snape down under the Whomping Willow to meet a werewolf.

But it wasn't just any werewolf. It was Lupin. Lupin who was a mild mannered, relatively sweet man by day and a vicious, bloodthirsty killer by night.

A killer.

Sirius's heart began to beat wildly. Remus Lupin was a killer, and he, Sirius, had just sent Severus Snape into the jaws of a bloodthirsty monster. He paled, eyes widening. Remus Lupin could _kill people_ – this was something that simply hadn't occurred to him until now; not really, anyway. Of course he knew werewolves were vicious creatures that longed after the taste of human flesh, but it was an altogether different concept when you tried to place that image next to the one of a mild mannered teacher. Remus could kill people – _would_ kill people, given the chance. He would kill Snape.

"Oh Merlin…" he whispered, pressing a shaking hand to his mouth. "Oh my god. Oh my god, what have I done?" He stood stock still, trying to think rationally, but a myriad of confused, terrified thoughts swirled through his mind. '_I've killed Snape. I'm a killer. No, worse than that, I've killed Remus. I've killed him. What the hell do I do? If he harms Snape in any way he'll be shot. I know the law – hell, father's talked enough about the trials of dangerous creatures. What do I do? Oh god why can't I think of anything? How could I do this? I can't let Remus hurt that bastard Snape. I can't let him be killed. I can't. Not when…not when…_'

Letting out a shaking breath, Sirius spun around and pelted back up the gentle rise of the hill towards the castle.

'_I could go to Dumbledore, get help. No, no time. Shit, why is there never anyone about when you need them? I could at least have sent someone to fetch him. No time for that either. What the hell do I do?_' James's cloak fluttered to the ground behind him, but Sirius didn't stop to pick it up. Panting, consumed by sheer terror, he raced towards the Whomping Willow. Snape was nowhere to be seen, but the stick he had tossed him earlier was lying abandoned nearby. Flinging himself towards it, Sirius's fingers scrabbled in the dirt for one breathless moment before he grabbed the branch and lunged at the trunk, ignoring the bruising blow the Willow dealt him on one shoulder.

'_I've got to get down there, I've got to try and stop him from going anywhere near Remus._' Not even bothering to wait for the branches to freeze fully, Sirius dropped the stick and scrambled towards the gap in the Willow's roots. He swore as his foot got caught on something, and he tripped, stumbling into the trunk of the tree. Glancing down, he saw the opening beneath him and staggered forwards, wriggling through just as the Whomping Willow began to move again.

Slithering down a shallow slope, he landed on his hands and knees, the breath knocked out of him. He stayed still for a moment, panting, too terrified to do anything but panic. The air was thick, stale; it smelt of earth and the musty scent of it made him wrinkle his nose. When he tried to climb to his feet he hit his head on the low ceiling. Somewhat dazed, he crouched again, one hand pressed to the wall. The darkness was complete – there was no light down here, and he didn't think to reach for his wand.

Taking a deep breath, he began to crawl, one hand still pressed along the wall, guiding him. He could feel damp seeping through the knees of his trousers, but he ignored it. Now was not the time to worry. Terror had erased all else from his mind. '_What will happen if Snape's dead? How do I explain that? How do I save Remus? What have I done? What have I done? What have I _done'

The tunnel seemed to stretch for eternity, time dragging in a horrible slow-fast momentum that had Sirius convinced he'd never catch up to Snape. It was impossible to tell for how long he crawled, the only sound the rasp of his own breath and the loud beat of his heart. '_I'm not going to make it in time. I'm not going to. What the hell was I thinking?_' Adrenalin surged through Sirius's veins, and he scrambled to a crouch, feeling the tunnel begin to slope up under his feet. Breaking into an awkward run, he could just make out a dim light and, aiming for it, he squeezed between two wooden planks and stumbled out into an empty room.

The air was thick with dust and had the same, stale scent as the tunnel. Shaking, Sirius dug frantically in his pocket for his wand and discovered to his horror that it wasn't there. No wand, no defence, and he was about to walk into a werewolf's lair.

"Snape?" he called softly, leaving footprints in the dust as he crept across the floor towards a doorway opposite. The door was hanging off its hinges, decrepit and clearly fragile. Sirius paused, hesitant to touch it in case it fell, startling anything lurking nearby into attacking him. Trying to strengthen his resolve he lifted a shaking hand and pushed it ajar. '_I've got to find him, I've got to. It can't be too late_.'

The next room was equally dusty although a dim, pale light seeped in through the windows. Sirius shivered, glancing nervously out of them. Through the smears and scratches on the glass, he could see the moon hanging low and full in the sky. The sight of it sent a pang of terror through him and he gasped silently, hand again going automatically to his pocket for his wand. The feeling of his fingers closing around nothing brought him to his senses somewhat and he bit his lip. The room was still empty and silent – indeed, the whole of what he presumed to be some kind of house, remained quiet.

'_Where on earth can Snape have got to? Where the hell is Lupin?_' Squinting in the gloom, Sirius ignored every instinct that was telling him to run, and stepped out of the room into what appeared to be a hallway. A set of fragile looking stairs ascended up into the darkness of the second storey and Sirius hesitated, unsure if he should risk climbing them. The wood had rotted and splintered in so many places, and in the uncertain light it was quite probable that he'd slip and break something.

"Where am I?" he whispered to himself, reaching out uncertainly to grip the broken banister. "What is this place?" The silence was thick, suffocating, and he felt as though a thousand eyes were watching him from the shadows as he set a foot on the first step. The resulting creak was loud – a gunshot of noise that broke the atmosphere and made him jump, shocked. Somewhere above him, something shifted. He could hear a sound, like feet scraping across the floor, nails dragging, creating a slow, grinding noise that seemed to reach into his very soul.

'_It's him, oh god help me, it's him. The werewolf's up there_.'

How Sirius convinced himself to take another step, he never knew. Perhaps it was bravery, perhaps sheer foolishness, or perhaps somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew it to be the only real course of action left open to him. Whatever the reason, almost as though of its own will, his body took over and began to move, climbing the stairs. Every step was a nightmare – a test of resolve, with the desperate hope that the wood would remain solid beneath his feet.

He reached the landing, terrified. He'd lost his voice somewhere between the fifth stair and the tenth, and could no longer even whisper in the hope that Snape would somehow hear him. Reality was a cold reminder in his head, and the fact that he had not heard anything to indicate his fellow student was upstairs terrified him still further. No noise meant no Snape, and no Snape meant there was no Snape left to make the noise in the first place.

'_He's dead, he's dead, I've killed both of them…_'

Bile rising in his throat Sirius moved across the landing. There was only one door up here, and it was closed. No fragile thing, this, like the doors downstairs, but a hard, thick piece of oak, clearly designed to stop something from escaping. He stood in front of it, no longer even thinking. He had gone beyond terror now, into a place where reality seemed far away. Everything was distant, although what really struck him was there was still no noise from the other side of the door. The only sound he could hear was his own short, laboured gasps for air, and the frantic pounding of his heart.

'_I've got to see, I've got to know…_'

He pushed open the door.

The room beyond had several pieces of furniture, all heavily scarred, which lay scattered across the floor. The windows in this room had been boarded up, and the darkness was near complete. Sirius strained his eyes, trying desperately to see something, anything, but nothing was moving. Not thinking, not questioning his motivation, he stepped inside, trying to see if Snape was there. The air was as stale in here as it had been downstairs, but the prevalent musty smell was overlaid by something far fresher. It took Sirius a moment to place the rich, coppery scent that lingered at the back of his throat every time he inhaled, and when he did, he retched.

Blood.

Panicking, he spun in the centre of the room, then froze at the sound of a low, rumbling growl. From behind what appeared to be a battered sofa near the door, a shape slunk, its eyes gleaming a deep, hypnotic gold in the dark. It moved silently, stalking towards him with slow, graceful menace. No matter how much Sirius tried, he could make out no more of the creature than its eyes, and it was these that caught his attention and held it.

"Lupin," he whispered, taking a slow step back. The creature neither blinked nor acknowledged his voice, continuing its steady advance. Sirius swallowed, backing away from the wolf even as it stalked towards him. This was it; his death was inevitable. He knew this with the same kind of certainty as if someone had shouted it in his ear. Time's Up. He could see the message and the intent written clearly in the wolf's malevolent eyes – could all but hear it in the rhythmic sound of his own heartbeat and the soft scrape of claws against wooden floorboards.

He couldn't really think of anything to say, although some hysterical part of his mind was prompting him to run, do something, _say_ something, _anything_. If there was the slightest chance he could appeal to whatever humanity remained in Lupin, he might be saved. The coldly rational part of him, however, knew that it was too late. Lupin was the wolf, and Sirius was its prey. It was far too late for words or even actions. Still, he couldn't help it, amidst the sheer terror and absolute panic that was invading his mind, he found a tiny sliver of something that – to his shock – felt very much like regret.

The wolf growled, and Sirius realised he had retreated as far as he could. His back was pressed to the rough wall of the house, his fingers digging into the splintering wood. Taking a deep breath, he wondered somewhat dazedly if Remus would escape the death penalty if he killed the only other human who could have testified against him in court. It was a ridiculous thought, and even as he stood there, now too terrified even to think about moving along the wall or making a break for the doorway, he realised this. Whatever happened, if Snape was dead, if he, Sirius, was dead, Remus would be killed, simply for being what he was and following his natural instinct.

There was an agonising pause that seemed to stretch for no more than a heartbeat and yet for eternity, as the wolf stopped, feet away from him, and merely stared. No memories flashed before Sirius's eyes, but the room felt far away. The situation was unreal to him – distant – almost as though he was watching a scene from a movie. The concept of his death seemed strange to him – a refusal to believe he was about to be killed. It wasn't something he'd ever thought to face, and now, confronted with dying, he was fully aware of himself. He could hear the beat of his heart; feel his lungs filling with air; was conscious of every final, precious breath and the feel of wood beneath his fingertips.

He shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he didn't know if he was apologising to Remus, Snape or even himself. "I'm so sorry."

There was a snarl. He opened his eyes in time to see the wolf lunge, and instinctively threw up his hands to shield himself. The force of the animal slamming into him knocked him sideways and he fell, the wolf on top of him. He grabbed handfuls of fur, yanking in a desperate attempt to keep the werewolf's teeth away, but his actions were in vain. The beast shook itself, dislodging his hands with startling ease and lunged again.

There was the feel of hot breath on his neck.

There was the sound of running feet.

There was a flash of light and a bright burst of pain.

Then, mercifully, there was nothing.

AaAaAaAa

"I'm telling you, something is seriously wrong," James said anxiously, as he and Peter sat huddled in a corner.

The Great Hall was filled with winter sunlight that streamed down from the enchanted ceiling. Decorations and garlands festooned the walls and the majority of Hogwarts' students who had stayed for the Christmas festivities were dressed in brightly coloured costumes. As Christmas celebrations went, this one was exceptionally grand, but James – jammed into a suit of armour he'd eventually borrowed from the castle itself – and Peter (dashingly swathed in a bright red suit and a beard) paid little attention to their surroundings. Their primary concern was the complete lack of Sirius.

"We haven't seen him since last night," Peter pointed out unnecessarily, "and his bed hasn't been slept in. His presents have been left unopened and no one seems to know what's going on." He frowned. "And to top it all off, there was that whole thing with Professor Sinn last night. What was that about, do you think?"

"I don't know." James's expression was grim, and he pushed up his visor so he could see more clearly. "But Dumbledore seemed worried – almost scared in fact. If you could claim he ever felt fear, of course. I think something's going on – something we're not meant to know about. I mean, what do you think Mars meant by the tree not moving? Do trees move? And if they do, why was this one _not_ moving causing such a problem?"

"I don't think trees move in general," Peter's voice was dubious, "but there's at least one that does. The Whomping Willow, remember?"

There was a long pause, during which James stared thoughtfully at the students who were dancing. Lily was out there in the middle of the throng, dressed in a pale pink gown, her red hair swept high off her neck. Nearby, several of the teachers who were in outrageous costumes stood, not enjoying themselves as one would expect, but huddled together, their expressions grim as they talked in low voices.

"Peter…" James said slowly, a nasty suspicion beginning to form at the back of his mind as he noted Madame Pomfrey, Sinn, Mars and Dumbledore were not among the throng. "Why exactly was the Whomping Willow planted this year?"

"They're trying to keep students in the school instead of wandering around outside after hours?" Peter suggested.

"No. I don't think so. Look, the Willow was planted _this year_, right? What else happened this year? Professor Lupin arrived. I bet that tree is some kind of cover. It's got to be. Maybe it's hiding a place for him to change into a wolf or something. After all, they can't just let him run loose in the Forbidden Forest. Think about it; it would explain why everyone was so worried about it not moving last night. Maybe it not moving is a sign that something's gone wrong, or someone's discovered the hiding place. Maybe that's what the panic was about."

"James," Peter whispered, lowering his voice as a group of students moved nearer to their secluded corner, "you don't think that's why Sirius isn't here, do you?"

"What do you mean?" James stared at him blankly. "You think he's the one who managed to freeze the tree or something?"

"Well…" Peter looked vaguely uncomfortable, "…think about it. Sirius seems pretty obsessed by Professor Lupin – not that he'd admit it of course – and it wouldn't take much for him to find out where Lupin transforms each month. Maybe he was trying to scare the staff into a panic, or warn Lupin that his secret wasn't safe and he got caught whilst he was setting the tree off." He paled. "What if he's in serious trouble? You don't think he'd be expelled, do you?"

"For something like this?" James scoffed. "Don't be daft. Anyway, we've no proof that's what actually happened. The two incidents could be entirely unrelated." He frowned. "Although I'm not going to deny the possibility you might be right. Do you think we should ask someone?"

"No. Think about: if you were Sirius would you want your mates intruding on a private matter?" Peter tugged irritably at his false beard. "I think Sirius has got a lot of issues to work out, not least of all those involving Professor Lupin. If we go blundering in, trying to help, I don't think it'll make life any better. He'll probably just get angry and defensive; especially if we try and point out that he's got problems. No, it's something he has to work through on his own."

"Peter," James said, sounding rather impressed, "I never knew you were so good at analysing people. Your perceptions are quite astonishing." He grinned rather lopsidedly and gave Peter a gentle punch on the arm. "I'll have to watch what I say around you from now on," he said, still grinning to show he was teasing.

"Maybe. But I wouldn't worry. Compared to Sirius, you're an absolute joy to analyse, Potter. You're only interested in one thing, and that's…"

"Quidditch?"

"No."

"Money?"

"No."

"Sex?"

"If you were I wouldn't want to know about it. No, it's Lily."

"Er…" Much to his embarrassment, James found that this assessment was also remarkably accurate. He smiled sheepishly. "You're probably right. But don't tell her, or I'll never hear the last of it. You know what girls are like." He sighed, gaze straying to his girlfriend, who had abandoned dancing in favour of gossiping in a corner with several other girls. Wondering how women could stand simply hovering in one place talking for hours on end, James was just about to suggest to Peter that they slipped out to see if they could find someone willing to answer questions pertaining to the whereabouts of Sirius, when his eye was caught by a vaguely familiar figure.

He groaned.

"Problem?" Peter asked mildly, giving up on straightening his beard, which had been skewed in one of his many irritable fits of tugging. He pulled it off completely and heaved a sigh of relief.

"I should say so," James whispered, shuffling further into the corner as surreptitiously as he could manage when wearing a rusty suit of armour. "That's Mrs Black over there."

AaAaAaAa

The pain in his head was a sharp, agonizing throb that made him feel as though his very skull was splitting in two. Hovering on the brink of consciousness, Sirius was aware of two things: the first was the utter silence that surrounded him, and the second was that he could feel absolutely nothing from the neck down. Dazedly wondering where he was, he tried to move and was surprised when it seemed as though his fingers at least were cooperating when they twitched slightly.

The first attempt to open his eyes resulted in a flash of white light and a renewed burst of pain in his head. Groaning softly, he slowly drew a breath, noting in a hazy sort of way that the rest of his body was beginning to make its presence felt in the dull ache beneath his ribs. He waited for a moment, half aware of the fact that he seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness before he tried again to open his eyes. This time he was more successful, although the sight that greeted him surprised him nearly as much as the stabbing pain in his shoulder when he drew a breath in shock.

An angel was sitting on the end of his bed, swinging his legs as he scowled moodily off towards the right. Bright sunlight streamed down on his hair, illuminating him softly, and a halo – slightly skewed – was hovering above his head. His short, white tunic was slightly crumpled, as though he'd fallen asleep in it at some point, and his expression was anything but angelic, given the frown he was wearing and the fact that he was evidently sulking. He paid no attention to Sirius, probably not even aware that he was being observed by him. This, Sirius felt, was slightly odd. He had the vague notion that angels were meant to be relatively all-knowing and – he squinted – he very much doubted that they ate cheese and tomato sandwiches.

"Ngk," he managed, which wasn't much but the angel obviously heard him as he turned his head to look directly at him, still scowling.

"Oh," he said, "you're finally awake." He hopped lightly off the end of the bed and stomped around to stand over Sirius. As he moved, he swam in and out of Sirius's vision until he resolved himself into a rather less angelic, but still clearly grumpy, Professor Fogarty. The cheese and tomato sandwich, Sirius was somewhat pleased to note, had not been a figment of his imagination, and was still clutched firmly in the Sports teacher's hand.

Mars _was_ dressed as an angel, and Sirius wondered whether this was simply part of an elaborate joke on him. Maybe he really was dead. Maybe he was in hell, because he was pretty sure Sports teachers didn't end up in heaven, even if they were dressed as though they were meant to be. But if he was dead and Mars was here, that meant Mars was dead too, and Sirius was pretty sure he'd been alive the last time he'd seen him.

"…Dead?" he managed hoarsely after a painful moment of trying to find his voice.

"No." Mars sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, clearly not at all concerned that the jolt as he did so sent agony tearing down Sirius's left side. He deposited the remains of his sandwich on the bedside table. "And you're lucky to be alive, because I'm fit to kill you." His young, normally cheerful face was unusually grim and he looked exceptionally serious. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"What I've…" Sirius's voice ran out and he licked his lips, trying to focus on what the teacher was saying to him. "I…"

"You nearly killed him!" Mars burst out, his expression furious, and Sirius stared at him, disorientated, confused and more than a little scared. The Sports teacher was clearly agitated and behind his anger was something else – something that, to Sirius at least, looked very much like fear. As though the foundations of Mars's life had been shaken. He blinked, staring mutely at Mars in a silent appeal to explain what was going on.

"The Whomping Willow? The Shrieking Shack? Remus Lupin? Is none of this ringing a bell in your mind?" Mars pointed an accusatory finger at Sirius. "Don't tell me you've forgotten something like that, Sirius Black."

And that was when it finally hit Sirius.

"Remus!" he gasped, sitting up abruptly then doubling over, retching violently as pain washed over him, drowning all else for a moment. Trembling, he glanced up at Mars who looked somewhat calmer and a little repentant at the sight of his pupil, who was clearly suffering. Sirius, however, was not interested in Mars; he was far more concerned with the problem at hand. Still shaking, he reached out, gripping Mars's arm with surprisingly strong fingers.

"Remus. Is Remus alright? What's happened? Where is he?"

Mars, who was looking more surprised by the second, shook his head. "He's…he's as well as can be expected. He's pretty badly injured though." He frowned, but not with any real anger this time. "Why would you care, though? Honestly Sirius, don't you think it's a little late for concern? And," he added almost absently, "you don't talk about teachers by their first names. Show some respect."

"But is he…will they…what's going to happen to him?" There was a strange panic settling over Sirius, he could think of little else besides Remus's fate. Even the pain in his sides and head had become something distant – little more than a secondary concern as he stared at Mars who blinked, slightly nonplussed.

"Happen? Well, I don't know. He attacked a student and that's something that's got to be taken into consideration…"

"But Snape he's…what about Snape? What about what he did to him?" Sirius was aware that Mars was looking more worried by the second, but he had to know, he had to find out.

"You mean Severus Snape? He hasn't done anything to him, as far as I know. I saw him this morning not long after Remus was brought to the hospital wing. Why?" Mars's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's Snape got to do with anything? What exactly is going on here?" He watched as Sirius flinched, letting go of his arm as though burnt. The student's eyes were hazy, unfocussed, but Mars could see real fear lurking in his expression. As he watched Sirius glance away, a horrible suspicion began to dawn at the back of his mind.

"Severus Snape knows about Remus, doesn't he?"

"I…" Sirius touched his forehead with shaking fingers. "I don't know. I…" He bit his lip. "I thought he was dead," he whispered at length. "That's why I went. I wanted to…to stop Remus doing anything. I…it's all my fault. I thought I'd killed both of them." He looked up, and Mars was shocked by the overwhelming guilt he could see in Sirius's expression. "It's all my fault," he repeated. "All of it. No one else is to blame. Snape was there, and he knew…he knew about Remus and I, and he threatened me…he wanted to blackmail me into doing something and…and…I thought _how dare you_? And I didn't stop to think, I did what I thought was necessary, but I didn't realise at first that it would be Remus that would kill him, and I forgot that the wolf and the human were part of the same creature and…"

"Sirius," Mars's voice was surprisingly gentle, despite the fact he was clearly still struggling to push down his own anger. "You're babbling."

"Am I?" Sirius stared at him, grey eyes wide. "I suppose I am." He laughed, and his voice was tinged with hysteria. "But I've got to tell someone, you see; and you happen to be here. You've got to understand, it's _all my fault_."

"I know it's all your fault," Mars assured him with more than a little condemnation in his voice, "but that doesn't explain exactly what you thought you were doing in the Shrieking Shack on a full moon." He frowned. Sirius was clearly still dazed from the potions Madame Pomfrey had poured down his throat, but some of what he was saying was starting to paint a rather more complicated story of what was going on than he'd originally suspected.

"It was the Shrieking Shack? Oh, that explains why I thought it was a house," Sirius was saying. "I didn't realise the tunnel would end up there."

"How did you know about the tunnel in the first place?" Mars demanded, shooting a surreptitious look over one shoulder to make sure Pomfrey wasn't bearing down on him to demand he leave for disturbing her patients.

"I heard you; you and Professor Sinn and Remus talking about the Willow. I didn't know there was a tunnel, but it was evident once you started to look for it. I heard about the knot and realised it had to do something to the tree, so when the branches froze I wasn't surprised. It was easy to convince Snape I already knew all about where Remus was hiding and I let him think we were meeting there. I suppose he thought he could catch us out if he confronted Remus about everything."

"What do you mean 'if he confronted Remus about everything'?" Mars demanded. "What are you talking about? Do you mean Snape suspected Remus was a werewolf?"

"No…I…" Sirius trailed off, and Mars could see the realisation dawning on his face that he'd said too much. "It's nothing," he said abruptly. "Don't worry. Just…no, it's really nothing." He covered his face with his hands. "I really am sorry, you know." The words were barely more than a whisper. "I didn't mean to cause this much trouble. I didn't think. I don't want anyone to get hurt because I did something stupid."

"People have already been hurt!" Mars snapped in spite of himself. "Remus is a mess right now, thanks to you, and Sinn…" He trailed off, lips pressed together as his hands clenched into fists.

"Professor Sinn?" Sirius dropped his hands and stared at him, face pale. "Why was he hurt?"

"It was us that found you." Mars glanced away, unable to look directly at Sirius. "Another couple of seconds and you'd have been ripped to shreds. Or bitten. I'm not sure which is worse. Anyway, we realised something was wrong because we saw the Willow wasn't moving, and we came down the tunnel after you. We found you on the floor, the wolf standing over you, and Sinn tried to fire a curse. Well, it hit you by accident and then the werewolf attacked Sinn. He's ok – he only got clawed, but the bleeding wouldn't stop for a long time." He drew a deep breath. "Both of you are so damned lucky to be here at all. Hell, so am I!"

Sirius remained silent, although Mars suspected this was largely because he was still too confused to process everything properly. He tried to find some sympathy for the pupil and found, to his surprise, that he did have some. Sirius, he suspected, was someone who was led by emotions far more than he was led by common sense, but this didn't stop him from wishing that he could throttle him.

"I nearly lost everything because of you," he said to Sirius softly. "So you'd better come up with a good explanation for all of this when Dumbledore stops by to see you. And you'd better make damned sure you explain that it wasn't Remus's fault. Believe me when I say this, Sirius Black, I'm not putting the people I care about in danger again just because you think it's a good idea to get rid of a problem." He stood up, intending to leave.

"What's it like?" Sirius's voice was soft but clear in the deep silence of the room.

"What's what like?" Mars turned to look at him, his expression faintly confused.

"Being so angry because someone you love was hurt. It must be hard, loving someone like that." Sirius's tone was distant, his gaze seeming to reach through Mars to his very soul. He was clearly still only half-conscious, not really aware of where he was, but his question was astute. "What's it like, caring that much for someone?"

"You've no idea."

"So tell me."

"It's everything to me – _he's_ everything to me. It's not about being in love or romantic confessions, it's about knowing I'd die for him if I thought it would protect him. It's about friendship, and sticking together. It's about understanding and wanting what's best for him. It's about all of that, and it's about just wanting to be with him, no matter what that entails. I don't care about who, or what, he is, and he doesn't care who, or what, I am. When I thought he might die, it was the most painful moment of my life. _That_ is what it's like, and if you ever, _ever_ make me relive that moment again, I shall personally rip you into little pieces and feed you to one of Hagrid's pets. Do you understand me?"

Sirius nodded mutely.

"Good," Mars said, still uncharacteristically serious. Turning, he pushed aside the curtain surrounding Sirius's bed and marched off down the ward, more shaken than he cared to admit.

In the bed nearest the door, a pale figure was propped up amidst a mound of pillows. There was movement as Mars drew closer, and Sinn turned his head, watching his friend with half closed eyes as he approached.

"Was Sirius awake? Did you talk to him?" he asked, absently moving his legs to make room for Mars, who sat down.

"I talked to him." Mars's expression was grim.

"And?"

"He's still pretty confused, I think. Doesn't know where he is; didn't know who I was for a while. He's terrified about anything happening to Remus though; I got that much out of him. He also mentioned Severus Snape." Mars sighed, raking a hand through his blond hair. "I'm worried, I think there's a lot more going on here then just some stupid kid accidentally discovering Remus's secret and thinking it would be fun to go and have a look for himself."

"It's not like you to worry." Normally, Sinn's gaze would have been sharp, but, like Sirius, he'd been given a sedative to ease the pain of his wound. His shoulder and the length of his arm were bandaged, hiding the deep rip that ran down from where the wolf had sunk sharpened claws into him. Following the course of the wrappings with his eyes, Mars silently gave thanks that it was, effectively, a scratch and nothing more.

"You look ridiculous in that outfit," Sinn added, a hint of his normal mocking tone showing through.

"I know." Mars reached up, tugging the halo hovering above his head self-consciously. "But since I thought I'd probably head off to the Christmas celebrations at some point, it seemed a shame to let my costume go to waste."

"It's a wonder Sirius took you seriously at all," Sinn muttered.

"Well, like I said, I don't think he was all there."

"Mm." Sinn's eyes drifted shut and he sighed. "So what's all this about something else going on?" he asked after a moment, clearly fighting against sleep.

"Mars smiled down at him. "I'll explain later," he promised.

"Well push off then. Go down to the Great Hall or something, you're disturbing my sleep." The words were meant to be harsh, but the effect was ruined as Sinn yawned.

"All right," Mars lied, swinging his legs up onto the bed and laying down. There was barely enough room for both teachers, but somehow he managed to work his way under Sinn's uninjured arm, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. Sinn grumbled under his breath but didn't really object – clearly too tired to do anything more than give Mars a half hearted push.

"Get off," he muttered, betraying the statement by reaching up, lightly touching Mars's hair.

Mars lay there listening to the reassuring beat of his friend's heart until he was sure Sinn was asleep. Grinning to himself, he settled down, fully aware that he'd be shoved off the bed as soon as Sinn awoke.

"No," he whispered in reply to Sinn's last comment. "I'm not going anywhere for a while."

AaAaAaAa

It was dark the next time Sirius awoke.

Lying on his back, he frowned at the stone ceiling, still vaguely confused and in rather a large amount of pain. Whatever he'd been given to dull his senses had clearly worn off, and although his head was aching slightly less, his whole body throbbed in agony. He vaguely remembered Mars's visit, and with hazy recollection came the knowledge that Snape, at least, was clearly safe. But he didn't know much more than that. Was Professor Sinn alright? More importantly was _Remus_ alright? From what he could recall there had been frustratingly little information concerning the werewolf, and Sirius was worried.

A part of him still could not feel sorry that he'd tried to send Snape down the passage to see Remus. His sentiments in that area had, after all, not changed. Snape deserved everything he got, especially because he refused to leave a person's private business alone. Sirius despised him and felt somewhat vindicated in attempting to scare him off – perhaps even kill him. It was a terrible, awful thought, but it was simply part of who he was. Another part of him however, was far more deeply concerned about the repercussions this would have for Remus. Sirius was no fool. The werewolf had attacked not one, but two people, and that at the very least could land him in prison. The law was not lenient when it came to dangerous beasts.

Somewhere at the back of his mind Sirius was struggling to associate the animal he'd seen last night with the mild mannered man he'd been talking to for the majority of the term. Oh, he knew Lupin was the creature and the creature was Lupin, but the two aspects of the same man seemed so different – so removed from one another – that it was almost impossible to link them together in his head. Lupin was a werewolf – he clearly hid the aspects of the wolf. He wasn't human, didn't deserve to be _treated_ as a human. This was what he, Sirius, had always been told.

And yet…

And yet Remus had been all he could think about last night when he'd gone down the tunnel. He'd been terrified, but his fear that Lupin would be blamed and then killed for something that he, Sirius, had done, had been an even greater cause for fear. He'd thought he would die down there – no, he'd _known_ he would die down there. Those last seconds before the wolf had pounced had been filled with the absolute certainty that his life was finally over. But even then he hadn't blamed Lupin, instead he'd felt…relief. As though he'd finally be free, that he'd finally have made things right by dying. It didn't make sense.

Or maybe it did.

Professor Fogarty's words came back to him as he lay there, biting his lip. '_It's not about being in love or romantic confessions, it's about knowing I'd die for him if I thought it would protect him._' Was that what he'd felt? That at least by dying for Remus he'd be able to protect him in some ridiculous way? That at least the Ministry would have no witnesses to confirm that Remus had killed? That perhaps no one would ever know the wolf had killed two people? It was a ridiculous notion – it was inevitable that people would notice he was missing and begin to ask questions, but it had been of some comfort at the time, hadn't it?

Slowly, Sirius sat up. It _did_ make sense. He'd wanted to protect Lupin, even though it was he, Sirius, who had caused the problem in the first place. He'd wanted to stop him from getting hurt, despite knowing what Remus was; despite knowing he'd probably die in the attempt. It was strange. Why would he do that? It wasn't like him. If he was brutally honest with himself – and Sirius often was – he was not the type of person to help someone on a whim, let alone protect them like that, so why had he done it?

He knew that only he could answer that question, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. If he'd done it because…because he felt something for Lupin, then he didn't think he wanted to know. Sirius Black didn't develop feelings for people – aside from the inevitable friendship with James and Peter, of course – and he certainly didn't fall in love with _werewolves_, did he?

He sighed, feeling tired. He was attracted to Remus, wasn't he? He didn't know. Yes, no, maybe…it was all so complicated, so difficult. And to make matters worse he, Sirius, had nearly killed Lupin with his stupidity. What was he to do? He rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel the ache building behind his eyes. The answer was already there in front of him, he knew, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

He had to find Lupin.

Carefully, wincing with every movement, he slipped out of bed and quietly made his way towards the door at the far end of the room.


End file.
